Lie Back and Think of the Ministry
by Jack of the North
Summary: Blaise and Hermione. Marriage Law. Set during their returning seventh year after DH minus the epilogue. Hermione and Draco are heads but she's married to Blaise. Hearts are broken, love is formed, trust is betrayed and new bonds are forged.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione was speechless. For the first time in a long time, longer then she could even remember, she was speechless.

"They've lost it!" Ron said, throwing the newspaper down on the table. "Kingsley's let the stress get to him."

Marriage Law. Two words dreaded by any young witch or wizard. At least it wouldn't be random pairings. The article had explained that come the following Friday, all witches and wizards aged between seventeen and thirty would be getting tested to determine mental health, physical health and a personality test to determine who their highest match would be. Race, blood status and age would not be a factor.

Next to her Ron continued to rant and rave as she numbly reached for the paper. She re-read it again for the fourth time. It looked simple enough; they would be paired up, marriage must be within three months of receiving their match, there were certain criteria that had to be met for a pardon and if you didn't meet the criteria there was no point in petitioning, the marriage had to consummated, if a child had not been produced after three years and the marriage had failed then you could petition for a divorce. Mrs Weasley hovered by the stove. Since the paper had arrived she'd cooked three batches of scrambled eggs, two dozen scones, and baked a cake. It seems the older woman was dealing by cooking. Hermione rubbed her hands over her face and sighed. It wasn't fair. It was barbaric. Maybe it was just a sick joke from the Daily Prophet. But even as the thoughts formed, four official looking owls landed at the window; one for each of them, each baring a letter from the Ministry.

Hermione reached for her and read the personal note from Kingsley, apologising for the circumstances but insisting it was necessary.

"Voldemort is finally gone and now we'll be forced into loveless marriages." Hermione spoke for the first time since new of the impending Marriage Law broke.

Ron put a comforting arm around her and placed a tender kiss at her forehead. On the other side of the table, Ginny and Harry were in much the same position except for the tears flowing steadily down Ginny's cheeks. The two had only just gotten back together after weeks and weeks of talking and fighting, rebuilding trust and knocking down walls.

Hermione sighed heavily and leaned into Ron. They themselves had only been together for a six weeks, ever since the battle ended. Hermione had been looking forward to this year; their first year back at school without the threat of Voldemort, without deaths and disappearances. They were returning for their seventh year but now her plans for not only her last year of school but for the rest of her life were hopelessly dashed into the ground.

"Bastards," Hermione muttered and in a moment of weakness a single tear slipped down one slightly freckled cheek.

* * *

The Friday of testing rolled around and all too soon they were headed to the Ministry were the testing would take place. Seeing all the wizard and witches mingling in the testing room, Hermione wondered just how the Ministry had come to the conclusion that they needed to introduce a Marriage Law. Looking around the room she was reminded of a muggle emergency room, there were dozens of cubicles cordoned off with curtains. Hermione felt someone bump into her from behind and turned to glare as Malfoy, Blaise and Goyle slinked by. Blaise smiled an apology and she nodded slightly to acknowledge no hard feelings. It was an odd trio and though she held nothing but dislike for two-thirds of them, she couldn't help but feel a touch of sadness that Crabbe no longer trudged along with them. Shaking her head, she decided she was far too nice for her own good. Crabbe had tried to kill them, after all.

The four of them stood nervously as they awaited for their name to be called.

"Granger, Hermione!" she heard and with a wave to the others she headed in the direction of the nurse that had called her name. She shuffled in and the nurse slid shut the curtain behind her, effectively silencing all noise so the only sounds that could be heard were Hermione nervous breathing and the nurse's scratching quill.

"Undress," the nurse said, abruptly but not unkindly. "This is the physical medical, just to check you're fertile and don't have any illness or disease."

Hermione swallowed audibly and with a blush, shrugged out of her robes. She lay down on the cold table, nothing but a thin sheet separating her skin from the metal.

Hermione winced as the nurse began. The first spell stung a little but after that they didn't hurt, they were just uncomfortable. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to think of pleasant things, like Ron and the library and when the four of them had got caught in the rain the week before.

Twenty minutes later the nurse was all finished, diagnosing Hermione perfectly healthy, fertile, and physically ready for marriage and all it entails. Hermione smiled, not sure what the correct response was and after getting dressed, she re-entered the throng. She couldn't see Harry, Ginny or Ron but did hear someone directing those finished with their medical to enter the next room where the psychological test would be performed.

This room was set up much the same but instead of medical equipment, each cubical contained a desk and two comfortable armchairs. Hermione again heard her name being called and this time met up with a handsome young wizard who smiled flirtatiously at her before they got down to serious business.

"So, you're Hermione Granger."

"So they tell me." She was in a bad mood. She didn't plan to make this easy for Dr Cutie in front of her.

"You resent being here?" he asked, making notes on his notebook.

"How old are you?" she asked instead of answering his question.

"Twent-eight," he said, indulging her.

"So this effects you too? Do you have to get poked and prodded, your brain picked at?"

"Yes, I do. No one is exempt. It would be easier on both of us if you just answered the questions honestly and to the best of your ability."

Hermione shook her head, royally pissed off. "Fine."

He sighed and began again.

"You officially testify that you are Hermione Jean Granger…"

* * *

Later that night Hermione lay curled up on the couch with Ron, he was absent-mindedly running his fingers through her curls, something he had been dreaming about since fourth year.

Hermione was staring off into the fire. She knew, she just knew that they wouldn't be matched. Someone at the Ministry would be looking for perfect couples, not realising that the imperfections are what made relationships special and unique.

"What if they don't match us up?" she said quietly, testing where Ron's head was at.

He sighed and his fingers stilled. "I don't think we will be matched up."

Hermione nodded, acknowledging that she too was thinking along the same lines.

"I – I think I could have loved you," Ron whispered. Hermione let her tears flow freely.

"I know I could have loved you."

They sat quietly together, an unspoken decision that come the morning, they would part. Over before they started.

* * *

A/N tear Occasionally I do like Ron and I hated breaking their hearts right off the bat but thats what makes a story a story right?

If you review I will give you... hmm... Apple Pie ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks everyone who reviewed the first chapter. Thats it, on with the story. **

* * *

"You understand you are here on a routine follow up appointment to gauge how you are dealing with the new changes due to the Marriage Law?"

Hermione was back with Dr Cutie. She nodded; everyone who was going back to school had been sent appointments, not just her. No one had received their matches yet and everyone's nerves were tightly strung. To get away and talk to someone about it had seemed like a good idea when she first read it, but now she was just frustrated and cranky with everyone.

"Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Dr Cutie asked.

"I guess the thing I'm having most trouble dealing with is finally getting my life in order and now everything is going to be turned upside down. At the best I'll get out of it in three years, at the worst I'm in it for life."

Dr Cutie nodded. It was a common complaint, the war was finally over, new relationships were blossoming and now the Ministry was stepping in to upset it all.

"Do you understand where the ministry is coming from though? It is important to keep the birth rates high and strong. Its not as if they can just pick out random muggles to join, magic is something you are born with. And though occasionally, like yourself, it presents itself in muggles, a large majority of our population are born to at least one magical parent. With the war, not only were a lot of young people killed, but people weren't procreating, they were scared to bring children into this world. It's unfortunate for your generation but the Ministry can't just stand by and hope that you all will get married and have children right away. They stepped in to do something about it."

Hermione felt anger coarse and pump through her.

"It's just so unfair." She shook her head.

"It will be better for your children. A better world for them. Isn't that what you fought for in the war? Just think of this as a different fight."

"My children with a man I don't love!"

"You don't know that," Dr Cutie reasoned. "Arranged marriages have been the way things were done in hundreds of countries for hundreds of years. Those people learned to like, respect and even love each other."

"And a lot didn't."

* * *

That week, Hermione's dreams were filled with her walking down the aisle in a beautiful wedding dress, only to reach the alter to find a rotting, decaying Voldemort waiting for her.

She would wake up sweaty and shaking and in desperate need of a shower. Normally Ginny would help her out but this night, the night before the matches were due, Ginny's bed lay empty. Figuring that Harry and Ginny were together somewhere, Hermione silently moved to the bathroom, emerging half an hour later, still upset. She contemplated going to find Ginny but understood their need to be together on possibly their last night as a couple, so decided against it. She lingered in the doorway of the room she shared with the red-haired girl. She looked up at the ceiling and wondered what Ron was doing, if sleep came easily to him this night before their fates would be decided. She knew she shouldn't be doing it, disturbing the delicate balance between them but her feet moved with a mind of their own, up the steps to where Ron's room was, presumably empty of Harry.

She cracked open the door to see that yes, the room was empty of Harry. Silhouetted by the moon, Hermione watched as Ron sat up at the sound of the door.

Once again, her feet led her to his side where he perched on the edge of the bed, her hip brushing his.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked in the darkness. Hermione nodded and in the faint glow of the moon, he saw her bite her lip.

"I don't want my first time to be with a stranger because the Ministry told me I have to. I want to be with you. Tonight. For the first time and probably the last."

Ron hesitated. He wanted her, their was no doubt of that but at what price? Could he move on to another, love another, always knowing in the back of his mind that he could have been happier with Hermione?

He would have to either way.

"Are you sure? Hermione you're going to be with this man for the rest of your life, do you really want to start the next part of your life by being with me?"

"No, but I want to end the old part with you. Don't deny me this Ron, it's not fair." Hermione apparently had no control over her mouth either because even though she knew Ron was reluctant she was pushing him for this. "I've never refused you anything."

Ron scoffed at that. "What about in the woods, Hermione?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I asked you to come with me. When I left, I asked you to leave Harry and come with me. You refused me then."

Hermione sat there, mouth open and speechless.

"How can you say that to me? I would have followed you to Hell and back. After Harry. Are you still so childish you can't see that he was more important at the time?"

Ron stayed silent, fuming.

Hermione stood and headed for the door, throwing it open and not caring how much noise it made.

"I pity the woman who ends up as your wife."

* * *

The four of them sat tensely and nervously around the breakfast table the next morning. It seemed half the house had heard Hermione and Ron's argument but no one dared mention it to the pair. Mrs Weasley was again cooking frantically. Piles and piles of hotcakes sat in front of them but no one, not even Ron, could manage more than a couple of bites.

"Here they come!" Mrs Weasley announced. Hermione looked out the window to see four owls soaring towards them. She quickly turned to Ron.

"I'm sorry, I'm such a wreck-"

"It's okay, Hermione. I'm sorry too."

The clasped hands, their issues pushed aside for the moment, as the owls each dropped a letter on top of the hotcakes. They stared a them, no one yet ready to face their fate.

Ginny cracked first, frantically ripping hers open.

They held their breath in anticipation.

"I – It doesn't say," she stammered eventually after repeatedly reading the letter. Harry snatched it out of her hands and he too read it over a few times.

"Witches don't get their matches, it's up to the wizards to propose within a week."

Hermione tore at hers, needing to see for herself that she may have yet another week of torture before she felt any relief.

Harry and Ron finally cracked open theirs, sliding out the smooth cream parchment. Hermione turned first to Harry, seeing that Ginny too was watching him intently.

He let out a hiss of breath and slipped off his chair, dropping to his knees, his head in Ginny's lap. He looked up at her and Hermione was touched to see tears shimmering behind his glasses.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley, will you marry?"

Ginny seemed to sag, a sob escaping her throat. "Really?"

Harry nodded and the two shared a sweet kiss. Mrs Weasley practically danced behind them.

"Of course I'll marry you," Ginny said when they broke apart. Hermione turned away from their intimate moment, her gaze landing on a pale faced Ron.

"Who did you get?" Hermione asked hesitantly. No one good from the look on his face.

"Lu-" he cleared his throat as the words stuck and tried again. "Luna Lovegood."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N It was so hard to get Blaise just right in this chapter so big thank you to G.V.S.L for helping me out and the T.E girls in general, without you I am nothing -tear- **

* * *

Hermione spent the rest of the day with her arse glued to a chair in the garden that gave her a view of the back and front door and a full view of the sky if any owls came. Harry and Ron had gone off to buy engagement rings and Ginny, refusing to let to men pick out her ring, had tagged along. Though their goodbyes were sympathetic, Hermione couldn't help but feel a little left out and abandoned.

But nothing came of her watchfulness. Nothing. Not an owl for her, not a messenger, not a paper plane, not a man bearing flowers, candy and big diamond ring, down on one knee.

And so the pattern continued for three days. Owls were in a constant stream carrying news of who was paired with who. Everyday Ron started out to the Lovegoods but he always got halfway there and then turned back again. It wasn't until Hermione had given him a thirty minute lecture on the cruelty of making Luna wait, did he finally pluck up enough courage to go and confront the unique blond.

Hermione couldn't sit there and listen later that night when he had told them how he took Luna on a walk through her garden. They both knew why he was there but he couldn't get the words out.

Hermione sat on the stairs, just out of sight and silently wept while he told how he awkwardly got down on one knee and proposed.

Bitter jealousy, regret and hurt bubbled up in her throat until the sour flavour of bile could be tasted and she ran for the toilet.

Mrs Weasley found her twenty minutes later, vomit in her hair, lying on the bathroom floor, sobs wracking her body.

Without saying a word, she had started the shower and helped Hermione out of her clothes and into the shower, tenderly washing her hair, the way only a mother can.

Hermione's own parents were lost somewhere in Australia. The ministry had someone looking for them but Hermione didn't hold much hope. She didn't regret it though. She would rather they be lost in Australia then dead here in England, murdered at the hand of a merciless Death Eater. Her cries increased at the thought of her parents. She sat under the water until it ran cold.

After Mrs Weasley had dried her off and wrapped the towel around her, she lead her to her room, passing Ron in the hallway. Hermione averted her eyes. She couldn't stand to see the pity shining back at her. Ron looked after them, confused but sad for Hermione's obvious pain.

"I've even been match with a coward or someone who hates me."

"He'll come," Mrs Weasley said when Hermione was dressed and in bed. "Tomorrow. I'm sure of it."

"Maybe they couldn't find anyone for me," Hermione said, her eyes red and puffy and her voiced chocked with emotion.

"He'll come."

* * *

Hermione in slept longer the next morning then she could ever remember sleeping, even after the final battle, and had a feeling Mrs Weasley slipped her a dreamless sleep draught. When she finally made it to the kitchen, she almost turned around and headed straight back upstairs. All the Weasley boys seemed to have congregated in the kitchen and, running out of chairs, Ginny was perched sickeningly on Harry's lap.

But Ron was at her side before she could escape. He didn't say a word, just firmly squeezed her hand and led her to the chair he had just vacated. She smiled at him gratefully and tuned into the conversation that was taking place. Percy had applied for a pardon, seeing as he and his school sweetheart, Penelope Clearwater, were already engaged.

Fred was happy enough with his match, Angelina Johnson, but George was less then pleased with his; Pansy Parkinson.

"Does she know yet?" Hermione asked over the competing voices. George shook his head and Hermione smirked. "Good luck with that one."

It was mean, she knew, but she couldn't help but be glad that not everyone around her was happy with their matches. Not that she even knew who her match was. It could be anyone from Draco Malfoy to Charlie Weasley. She looked over to were Charlie was sitting next to Bill. They were discussing something heatedly and kept glancing at her.

_Was it Charlie?_

Hermione nodded to something Ron was saying, all the while watching the two eldest boys with interest while they watched her. Suddenly Charlie cleared his throat, silencing the rest of the room.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Everyone turned first to Hermione and then Charlie. He hadn't told anyone who he was paired up with, and everyone immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had got her. Ginny smiled at her but Hermione just shook her head in response. Charlie wasn't her match; she was almost sure of it.

They wandered out into the garden, Charlie nervously bit on his fingernails.

"You're not my match," Hermione said, a statement of fact, not a question.

"No."

"You want a pardon." Charlie nodded. "Who did you get?"

"Alicia Spinnet," Charlie mumbled and Hermione was surprised to hear the anger in his voice.

"The chaser?" Alicia now played in the Professional Quidditch League alongside Oliver Wood. Hermione thought back to what she could remember about the woman but couldn't draw up much, other then 'chaser.'

"We don't get along. She was in the reserve grade my last year at Hogwarts, she was a snotty little second year and after one of the matches, we had words. She called me a bumbling ape who she was surprised had the motor skills to catch the snitch, I called her a wimpy little pomegranate who should have been in Hufflepuff."

"A pomegranate?" Hermione laughed.

"Well I had just taken a Bludger to the head." He pointed to said head for effect.

Hermione shook her head. "So, I'm the lesser of two evils?"

"No, don't think of it like that. I think you're beautiful and would be a great wife."

Hermione blushed and they paused under an old oak tree. Hermione leaned against it, feeling the rough trunk pressing into her back.

"I don't know Charlie. Have you read the criteria for a pardon? We have to prove a relationship of at least two years. How do you propose we do that when I've been on the run and you were in Romania? And you need the agreement of all parties involved; I don't even know who my match is. He could easily object."

Charlie opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a tall dark young man standing not five feet away.

"I do object."

They both turned to the speaker, none other then Blaise Zabini.

Hermione let out a light chuckle that quickly turned into a hysterical giggle.

"You?" she laughed.

Blaise frowned, he had hoped she would take it better than this, but she was reacting much as Draco had when they had discussed their matches. Draco thought it was hilarious he had ended up with the biggest Mudblood out there. After many hours of contemplation, Blaise had resigned himself to marrying the muggleborn and had promised himself to attempt to make the most of the situation. She was fairly attractive and there was no doubting that she was extremely intelligent.

He didn't want to end up like his mother, jumping from one spouse to another. But, he supposed, if worse came to worse, then after three years of having a smart, pretty witch in his bed, they could divorce. If the union actually happened to go well, they might be able to build a successful and satisfying marriage together. Children, maybe even, one day. Blaise shook his head and turned his attention back to the shocked pair in front of him. Granger had stopped giggling and was now swaying dangerously; the man, a Weasley he guessed, was glaring at him.

Ignoring the redhead, he put a steadying hand on Granger's elbow and led her to an old wood and wrought iron bench close by. When he had sat her down, he sat beside her and pulled out the ring his grandmother had given him that morning.

"She may not be the one you love now, but every woman who has worn this ring has grown to love her husband. There will be love between you one day." He had smiled gratefully at his Grandmother, grateful for her support, where his mother had simply turned up her nose at the Ministry's choice.

Back in the garden, he hastily put the ring back in his pocket, deciding another time, when they were both more accepting of each other would be more appropriate.

Instead he turned her to look at him.

"I know this will be hard, but let's just try and make the most of it."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "Make the most of it? The last I heard you weren't much better then Malfoy."

"People change," he said quietly, remembering the way his grandfather was attacked during the war for not wanting to join the dark side. His family were purebloods but they weren't as prejudiced as some; he personally had no desire to wipe out all muggleborns. He just didn't want anything really to do with them.

Hermione sighed. She would definitely need another appointment with Dr Cutie.

"So, what now?"

Blaise shrugged, also at a loss. "I guess, will you marry me?"

* * *

_Bleh, I didn't like the way the end of this chapter came out. I had another version but it was way too fluffy. _

**There was a young man name Barry**

**Who like to read stories 'bout Harry**

**He reviewed every fic**

**He never did miss**

**So Barry, I think I will marry**

_Please review_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N This chapter is longer, but don't expect that every time, I'm usually pretty slack. **

**Thanks to the TE girls, as usual. You all rock. **

**Also, there is some more Charlie in this chapter. It's not going anywhere, I just like writing him and I thought it would be good for Hermione to have someone to talk to in a similar position as herself. **

* * *

Hermione sat on the fence bordering the Burrow. She had climbed up the old oak tree and shimmied along one the branches, the rough bark scraping the soft skin of her thighs and stomach, until she was positioned over the thick brick wall. She had dropped down with the skill and grace of a cat, swung her legs over until she perched easily there. She took in the vision of the rolling his of the countryside surrounding the Burrow. She let her mind wander. There was so much happening, the last Battle, winning, her parents missing, Ron, the marriage law, Charlie's desperate proposal and finally Blaise's resigned one. She had, of course, said yes. She was a citizen of the magical community and required to follow its laws. It's just what you did. Though no official word had been given on the punishment for non-compliance, whispers from the Ministry suggested a nice trip to Azkaban would be booked for anyone refusing to comply.

Hermione turned her head slightly as the wind carried the sounds of Teddy's childish giggles, joined by Harry's deep chuckle. Before she had escaped into the garden she'd taken a moment to study her friend, playing with his Godson, and she had realised he was a man. She didn't even know when it had happened; while they were camping, during the battle, when he had decided to go after the Horcruxes instead of the Hallows. Somewhere along their journey, he had transformed into the man she saw before her and she felt both awed and fortunate to see the change first hand. Though the changes in Harry were so blaringly obvious, she couldn't help but wonder if, when people looked at her, they saw the bushy-haired know-it-all bookworm or the woman she hoped she had become. Unlike Harry's gradual change, she felt she could easily put a finger on when she realised she wasn't a girl anymore; choosing Harry over Ron. Choosing the mission over her heart. She'd been forced to sacrifice before, sending her parents away. However, she had done that as a daughter. Not following Ron, sticking by Harry's side, she had done that as a woman.

She turned back to the scene before her, drinking in the sights and smell of a simple rural existence. She wondered where Blaise would want to live, after school. He was a pureblood Slytherin; his family apparently had many assets but not much actual money. Until recently, that is, with his mother's rise up through the rich and the famous. She'd heard a rumour that his grandfather had opposed Death Eaters during the war, and had paid for the defiance with his life.

Hermione turned her wandering mind to the man she was to marry and tried to form in her mind, the picture of the type of man he seemed. Intelligent and arrogant, that was for sure. However, he seemed friendly compared to some, namely the Draco Malfoys of the world. She recalled an incident when she had overheard him chastising himself over a poor grade. She remembered the harsh words he'd said and had been shocked. She had turned to chastise him for belittling another student, only to find his anger directed at himself. She'd given him an encouraging smile and held up her own paper; only an E, a failure in her mind. He'd smiled bashfully and held up his; also an E.

Beneath her thin summer shorts the brick bit into her skin and, conjuring a cushion to sit on, she adjusted herself and continued her pondering.

"That's pretty impressive," she heard someone behind and below her say. Twisting around, she spotted Charlie clambering up the tree to join her. She watched as he nearly fell, lumbered over to her, and joined her on her large cushion.

"Everyone's so… happy. I had to get away."

"Everyone?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow.

"Everyone. George met with Pansy today and he reckons he doesn't like her one bit but he can't stop talking about how they argued, and the prank she was pulling on her brother when he got there and her legs. If I have to hear one more word about Pansy Parkinson's legs, I'm going to bloody feed her to a dragon."

Hermione laughed, enjoying the casual company of Ron's second eldest brother. Everything with Charlie was casual; his look, his presence, even his marriage proposal had been casual.

"And Harry and Ginny. I'm glad they're happy but do they have to rub it in our faces? Playing happy family with Teddy."

Hermione giggled again, leaning on Charlie for support as she teetered dangerously on her cushion. Before them, the sun slowly faded, painting the clouds and skyline an impressive range of colours, pinks, purples and apricots.

"How are you doing?" Hermione asked. She shifted slightly so she was facing Charlie. She took in his profile, the strong jaw line, the slightly crooked nose; a dragon related accident from what she had heard. His long Weasley-red hair blew gently around his neck and shoulders in the quiet breeze. He shrugged and Hermione's gaze was drawn now to his broad shoulders and well toned body. No, marriage to Charlie wouldn't have been so bad, but Blaise had overheard them and that plan was gone before her mind had even had a chance to talk herself into it.

"They're going for the big bang. Ceremony, reception, formal dress robes and half the family showing up." He was referring to Harry and Ginny, the happy young – in love – couple. One of the few.

"We're going dress shopping on Tuesday," Hermione said, grinding her teeth. It was Charlie's turn to laugh.

"Dress shopping not high on your list of priorities?"

"There's so much going on and she wants to plan a bloody wedding in a week's time and she wants me to have one too."

Charlie glanced at her before his gaze slid back to the sunset. As the great ball of fire dropped from the sky, the air cooled. He conjured some blankets and they wrapped themselves up, huddling close together. Charlie was surprised to feel so at ease with this girl who was both like a sister and a friend. His motives earlier were not purely selfish, he wanted to protect her and he honestly did believe that she would be happier married to him. With all these warm fuzzy feelings floating through him, he felt compelled to encourage her to put her foot down when it came to his _real_ little sister. "To me, ceremonies represent love, joining of families and celebrating. This Marriage Law; it has nothing to do with that. If you don't want to, just stand up to Ginny and say no."

Hermione laughed bitterly and laid her exhausted head on Charlie's shoulder. "Easier said then done."

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" Hermione demanded, snatching the sixth set of Wedding Robes out of the sales assistant's hands.

"Yes," Ginny called from the next stall over. "This may be the only time you ever get married and I will not have you go to the Ministry and get registered like some commoner! You are Hermione Granger and you deserve a ceremony and a dress and Blaise waiting for you at the end of the aisle, looking handsome."

Hermione grumbled as she buttoned up the robes and then turned to expect them in the mirror.

"These all are horrible! I hate dress robes!" She practically ripped the white material off her body and dressed hurriedly. She opened her mouth to continue her rant but was stopped as Ginny dramatically flung the curtain aside.

"What do you think?" she asked, giving a twirl. She looked stunning, the simple cut to the robes showing off her figure.

"Gorgeous," Hermione declared. "Harry will die."

"I hope not," Ginny giggled but told the sales woman she'd take them. The witch went to work, pinning and tailoring them and when she was done informed the girls they would be ready by Friday.

"That's good," Ginny said. "Considering the wedding is Sunday."

Hermione had, of course, given in. The owl from Blaise's mother, setting up a time to plan the wedding hadn't helped. Ginny had spotted it and insisted Hermione try on wedding robes with her. She would see Hermione walk down the aisle, if she had to stand behind her and push her the entire way.

Ginny practically skipped through Diagon Alley, Hermione shuffling despondently next to her.

"Speak of the Devil," Ginny said, and gestured to where Blaise and Draco were sauntering down the street. Hermione groaned and looked around for an escape. The brilliant purple building that was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was not too far away, but to get to it she would have to cross in front of the men, making the action pointless.

Steeling herself to her fate, Hermione plastered on something resembling a smile as the four came together in the middle of the street. Hermione bit back her gasp of surprise as Blaise pecked her cheek in greeting and nodded politely to Ginny. She nearly died of shock a moment later when Draco also nodded politely to the two girls. It seemed war hadn't changed just Blaise.

"We were just shopping for Wedding Robes," Ginny said when no one made a move to speak. The boys nodded, looking uncomfortable.

People around them moved impatiently around the group, forcing them into a tighter circle so the Blaise's arm grazed Hermione's.

He cleared his throat and said the first thing that came to mind, "Did you get my mother's note? She's quite eager to have a society wedding."

Well she was now that she had gotten over the shock and realised the publicity she would get from hosting the wedding of her only son and the most well-know muggleborn out there. She still sneered in an unpleasant sort of way, but at least now called Hermione, the girl, instead of the Mudblood, as she had been calling his fiancé.

Hermione nodded that, yes, she did. "I'm joining you for dinner tomorrow night, didn't you know?"

"My mother tends to plan things and just tell me where to show up." On a weaker man, the comment may have come off as soft or feeble, but Blaise managed to convey it in a bored tone, revealing his disinterest in him mother's social affairs and his obligations and not any particular loyalty to her.

Hermione nodded, filing that piece away to add to the puzzle that was Blaise Zabini. Draco and Ginny glanced at each other, wondering if they were obliged to converse. The both decided it wasn't worth the effort and instead focussed their attention on their friends.

"Well, we should be going," Hermione said eventually, receiving another kiss on the cheek in parting and more nods from Draco. "See you tomorrow night."

The women made a beeline across the street to WWW, both in stunned silence.

The pushed through the doors, the tinkling bell alerting the twins to their arrival.

"Did you see that?" Hermione spluttered, eventually finding her voice.

Ginny nodded, not sure whether to laugh or be sympathetic.

"Well, he was brought up to be a gentlemen, no matter how prejudiced a gentleman." Hermione nodded, partially nullified by Ginny's explanation.

"It's just weird. It's going to take some getting … used … to. Pansy." Hermione voice trailed off as she took in the sight before her. She nodded in the direction of the back rooms where Pansy and George were emerging. George said something to the Slytherin girl that they couldn't here. Their stern faces looked like they may have just been quarrelling but their eyes gave them away; they were positively dancing.

"I don't want to know what they were just doing," Ginny whispered, shuddering for effect. They plastered on friendly smiles, making the effort for George's sake.

"Good morning, Pansy," they echoed together. Pansy merely glanced at them, not even gracing them with a civil nod as Draco had. She said something to George and he nodded before she turned and without another glance as the girls, left the store.

"She's nervous," George apologised. "She doesn't know how to react. I mean, she's never been the nicest person and she doesn't know how to proceed."

Hermione just humphed, but Ginny wasn't so easily appeased and as she ranted and raved, Hermione let her mind drift away, cursing the Marriage Law and how it had disrupted their lives. Glad to have a meeting that afternoon with Dr Cutie and the slightest bit of relief she felt that accompanied the appointments, she waved goodbye to the arguing redheads and made her way out side before Apparating to the therapist's office.

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_Please review_


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione dressed carefully. Ever thing from her robes to her shoes to her underwear was chosen with careful precision. She didn't want to make a bad impression; not because she wanted to impress Blaise's mother, but because she would be part of the family for at least the next three years. Everything would go a lot smoother if Blaise's mother didn't hate her on sight.

Blaise was coming to collect her at six-thirty.

Hermione's thoughts wandered to the man as she slipped into her slip. He was like an enigma, everyone knew his name and a bit of his background, but apart from a few select Slytherin's, the man that was Blaise Zabini was a mystery, a riddle, a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Hermione laughed and shook her head. Blaise Zabini was just a shy man who took a while to open up to people. Satisfied with her conclusion, Hermione continued to get dressed, slipping on her shoes only when she heard the downstairs doorbell ring.

Hermione smiled whenever she heard it. She'd gotten it for Mr Weasley a couple of weeks ago and for four days he would ring the bell every time before coming inside until Mrs Weasley got sick of it and put a charm on it that only actual visitors could ring it, and not people who lived in the house.

When she descended the creaky old stairs, she found Blaise sitting uncomfortably in the living room with what could only be described as a sneer on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes and gathered her things, ready to Apparate with him. He stood when he saw her and again offered a quick peck on her cheek, though it was joined this time with a light hand on the small of her back.

Hermione let her eyes sweep over her betrothed while Blaise unashamedly did the same. Both came up wanting. Hermione looked beautiful in her tailored robes but no amount of fancy robes would hide that fact that she was muggle born.

Blaise had no problem with them, he just didn't think he would ever be marrying one. It was like how some people of colour wouldn't date outside their race, it was a preference. And he preferred non-muggleborns.

Hermione, too, found Blaise quite attractive in his obviously expensive robes but the dissatisfied look on his face ruined the effect, making the face that could be attractive, harsh and cynical. However, she did admit to herself, his lips on her cheek felt warm and pleasant enough.

Hermione shook her head. She refused to be one of those women who could be easily persuaded with a sweet word and tender kiss. She would not give any of her self to Blaise until he was willing to give some of himself to her. But her ideas of him were so set, would she recognise it if it happened?

"Ready to go?" he asked, helping her into her light cloak. She nodded and, after saying goodbye to the Weasley and Harry who were watching the exchange from various places around the room and house, they stepped out into the pleasantly warm air. Blaise offered his arm and they walked at a casual pace out the front gates of the Burrow.

"We can Apparate now," Hermione informed him.

"Yes, but it's a pleasant evening, how about we walk a bit?"

"Okay," Hermione answered, not sure what else to say.

They walked awhile, down the gentle sloping lane that led to the small muggle village not far away. Blaise asked her general questions, what it was like living with the Weasleys, what she planned to do after school, was she looking forward to going back?

Hermione was completely baffled. His indifferent air was that of a bored child, doing what he was told. How could _anyone_ but okay with this? With the ministry stealing away three years of their life? She had gone to three sessions with Dr Cutie and her anger and disappointment hadn't abated in the slightest. Yet here was Blaise, calmly discussing the weather and school like they wouldn't be forced to marry and copulate within the next two and a half months.

They paused eventually and Hermione saw that he had led them to a field, she could see the Lovegood's house not far away. Hermione watched Blaise, watching her and fingered her wand nervously, wondering what they were doing here.

"We both know where we stand," Blaise said after a while.

"In a field?" Hermione joked and then blushed at how atrocious and inappropriate it was when it was obvious he was trying to be serious.

However, Blaise surprised her with a light chuckle, a not unpleasant sound. "Yes, in a field. I – I'm trying. I want you to know that. I'm not going to just waste the next three years of my life. I don't think of it as three years we have to _endure."_

Hermione looked at her feet, ashamed. That's exactly how she had been thinking of it. Blaise wasn't bored, his mind had just been elsewhere.

He continued, "We're going to be spending the next three years together. They might fly by or they might crawl. Under normal circumstances we wouldn't have ever gotten together but we are now so let's just… try. I take my responsibilities seriously. A wife, children –"

"Children?" Hermione interrupted.

"Yes, children." He continued, not even noticing Hermione's expression turning from shocked to horrified. "I've always wanted children. A stable family to raise them in. Of course house elves will do most of the work when they are still babies. My own elf nanny, Poddy, was wonderful at anticipating my needs. She was especially good with making sure my favourite robes were always clean. Of course as I got older my grandmother mostly raised me. Though I don't think my mother will want to do that. What's your mother like? A muggle I suppose…"

Hermione shook her head; children, house elves, mother-in-law, her own mother.

"My mother is missing," she stammered eventually. "In Australia," she added, as if that fact would make the whole situation clearer. "With my father."

Blaise stopped with whatever he was about to say. "I'm sorry."

Hermione shrugged, regaining her composure. "The casualties of war."

Blaise nodded knowingly.

"So, should we go? We'll be late and I don't want to upset your mother."

"Of course but first," he paused to pull out a box from his pocket. He opened it to study the ring inside a moment, debating whether to tell the story of the ring, closed it and silently handed it to her. That story was personal, between him and his grandmother. He'd tell it to Hermione if they came to love one another, as his grandmother predicted they would.

Hermione opened the box, falling instantly in love with the beautiful ring. She hesitantly took it out of the box, unsure whether she should put it on. Blaise stepped forward and with quick, agile fingers gently pulled the ring from her, slipping it on her left ring finger. He then lifted her hand and bowed his head, gently grazing her finger tips with his lips.

Hermione was speechless at such an intimate gesture, her words literally escaping her.

"Try with me?" Blaise murmured.

He knew she was stunned, maybe even a little flattered. The actions came naturally to him, the words and the gestures. He would have acted the same, whatever woman the ministry paired him with. He meant what he said; he took his responsibilities seriously. And now that Granger had the ring on her finger, she was his responsibility.

He had always desired what he said; a stable loving relationship to bring children into. He hated to think that he might end up like his mother; moving from one man to another, thoughtlessly dragging her son along or just leaving him behind. Or worse, like his father, not even around to be a bad parent. Just a name and one faded photograph.

Everything he thought of Granger still stood, even if she wasn't a pureblood or even a half-blood. She would make a good partner and a good mother. But, truth be told, he would have made the effort with any woman, that Granger seemed to be a good match was a plus.

He knew that if they tried, they could be successful. He was sure of it now and determined to make it happen. He would woo her and by the time they married and school started, she would at least like him, if not love him.

He thought back to a conversation he had with Draco the day before, after they had run into the two woman in the street.

"She's not that bad looking, I guess," Draco said over a bottle of Firewhisky at one of the more exclusive bars. "I think the war took her down a peg or two."

"She's not the only one." Blaise smirked and saluted his scowling blond friend with his drink. "Hey, you never told me who you got."

Draco slung back his drink and grinned cockily at Blaise. "No one."

"What?" Blaise asked, incredulous.

Draco shrugged. "No one," he repeated. "There's a few blokes who didn't get anyone. Apparently, a bunch of woman fled to France and really screwed up the numbers so those of us left over have to wait for the young ones, look in other countries or, Gods forbid, marry a muggle."

It was Blaise's turn to scowl. Draco had yet again managed to get out of something the rest of the world had to do.

"Lucky bastard."

Draco laughed. "Stop whinging. Granger's not that bad." He looked around to check if anyone was listening in on them. "Between you and me, the thought of her has kept me warm on more then one cold lonely night."

He threw his head back and cackled.

Blaise shook his head. "One, you're drunk. Two, that's my fiancé you're talking about."

Draco shrugged in careless way, the gesture slow and sloppy. "Just 'cause she _has_ to marry you doesn't mean I can't still imagine sticking it to her. I bet once she warmed to a man, she would be a passionate little firecracker."

Blaise had rolled his eyes and left his drunken slurring friend there, letting the house elves take care of him as they were so adept at doing. It wasn't the first time Draco had gotten drunk there.

But he still had a point, Blaise had also suspected that she could show great passion to someone she cared for. You could see it when she was with her friends; she loved hard.

Back to the now, he shook his head, the woman in question was staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"You're not who I thought you were," she said, wonder in her voice.

"No," Blaise wrapped his arms around, preparing to Apparate, shook his head and smirked, "I'm better."


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione groaned and kicked off her shoes, greedily kicking Fred away and snatching back some blankets.

The night had been, to put it lightly, pure torture. No, torture didn't correctly describe the three and a half hours Hermione spent smiling and nodding and _agreeing_ as Ms Zabini picked her to pieces.

The evening began with Blaise's mother commenting, "What a cute dress but next time, dear, dress up a bit. Dinner is a formal affair at the Zabini household."

Hermione had nodded, murmuring, "Yes, of course." She had spent an obscene amount on the dress but simply smiled and nodded.

Blaise had stayed silent during most of dinner, observing how both his mother and his fiancé acted. He was curious just what Hermione's breaking point would be before she snapped and bit back at his mother. He knew she could handle herself and resisted stepping in. He wondered just which of his mother's thoughtless comments would send her over the edge. His answer came just before desert.

"Now, I understand that the marriage has to be consummated," his mother began. She stirred her cup of tea and silently laid down the teaspoon on the saucer before taking a sip.

Hermione's cheeks had flared red and she nodded.

"Well, I think it would be best for everyone involved if, after that first joining, you two both abstained. I mean, we certainly don't want any children bought into the home, do we? Can you imagine? Your blood mixed with ours? Never! You'll want to find a nice muggleborn to reproduce with and my dear Blaise will find someone more suitable after the divorce too. Actually, now that I think of it, it will probably be best if you just stayed in the servant quarters. Remove the temptation and all that. Well, you like house elves, don't you? You'll fit right in, don't you agree?"

Blaise's gaze turned first to his mother and her expectant stare, then to Hermione and her barely concealed outrage. Blaise's eyes were alight with amusement and anticipation.

Delicately setting down her own teacup, Hermione stood and excused herself, gesturing to Blaise that he should follow her.

He also excused himself and they moved to a drawing room, two doors down.

"How can you just sit there and let her abuse me like that? She may not have raised a finger against me but I assure you every comment cut sharp and deep. I thought you were a nice person, I thought you were kind and were going to look after me and protect me and be my husband and all the rubbish you spouted which were obviously lies. If you cared about me at all you would silence your mother's vicious tongue and take me away from here!"

She had managed to pace the space in front of the couch four and a half times during her rant.

"And then what would have happened?" Blaise questioned. Hermione stopped to glare at him, deftly ignoring the part of her brain that was admiring the way his chocolate skin glowed warmly in the firelight. "Forever, I would be running to your defence and you would never learn to stand up for yourself."

Unlike Hermione, who stoutly avoided all romantic attachment or attraction, especially physical, Blaise had no problem opening admiring the witch before him. Her eyes were ablaze with passionate indignation and anger; at his mother, at him and probably at herself.

"Throwing me to the wolves is not the way to teach me some self-confidence," Hermione stated calmly. She spun on her heel and stormed back into the dining room. And then it was Ms Zabini's turn.

"You cruel, miserable woman. Get down off your high horse and take a look around you. It is over, it's done. Blood status means nothing. Nothing! I come from a respectable family, _with money_. Both my parent's are professional, family and career oriented people and I've never wanted for anything. I am a good person and your son should be damn thankful that he  
ended up with a intelligent, kind and decent person like me and not some idiotic tramp that would open her legs for anyone with an important name or enough money." Hermione gave her future mother-in-law a pointed looked and then with one last sneer at the decedent surroundings she grabbed her things and left, Blaise's laughter echoing around the large house.

When she had arrived home, everyone bar Harry, Ginny and Fred were out and the four of them had retired to the girls' room with a bottle of Firewhisky and pack of cards, helping Hermione drown away her sorrows and take the night off from real life.

They had drunk copious amounts of liquor, listening to Hermione rant about the marriage law, the only one out of the four unhappy with her match. One by one they had passed out across the beds, still fully dressed.

Hermione had woken in the early hours to find herself shivering with Fred hogging all the blankets.

Feeling slightly better with her shoes off and her body warm, Hermione attempt to drift back into what would undoubtedly be a restless sleep. She thought nothing of the fact that she was sharing a bed with Fred Weasley. She'd spent months with Harry and Ron. Fred was just part of her family, just like another brother. Well, Ron was never like a brother.

She had tried very hard not to think of Ron since the marriage law had separated them. She had seen the sweet but awkward way him and Luna acted around each other, the small smiles they shared. She couldn't imagine her and Blaise ever sharing a smile the way her friends did.

She willed the thoughts away but in the cold grey morning, the sun just breaking over the horizon, Ron walked casually into her mind. He smiled and offered his hand to her. She smiled back and accepted. She rose and then they were outside, they danced around the Burrow garden, much as they had at Bill's wedding, only now, it was just the two of them. The wind was so cold; it chilled her bare arms, and stirred the perfectly styled curls that framed her face. She buried her head into Ron's chest and let him guide her around the flowers.

"Don't leave me," she whispered.

"I'll never have to leave if you come with me," he promised and Hermione's sleepy mind realised this was just as much a memory as it was a dream. It was the exact conversation her and Ron had had at the wedding, not even an hour before all hell had broken loose.

"I'll come with you, Ron. I promise."

He smiled down at her, squeezing her tighter to his body, and they waltzed beneath the tall oak tree while the sun rose higher in the distance.

"You're dreaming, you know."

She looked up to him, meeting his sad eyes, the tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Above them, the ancient tree's leaves rustled in the wind, one falling to land on Hermione's shoulder. She ignored it.

"I know. You left, and I didn't follow."

His expression didn't change, no anger, just the sad, dejected eyes staring down at her.

"Who's to blame?" he queried. "Hermione?"

"Hermione!"

Hermione sat up with a jolt, the sun much brighter in the sky now, the room empty except for her. Ginny stood before her, holding out a letter from the ministry by the look of the seal on the envelope.

Hermione rubbed her sleepy eyes and shook her head of the dream of Ron and accepted the letter, opening it and reading through it quickly.

_Dear Miss Hermione Jean Granger, _

_It has come to the ministry's attention that you spent the night with a man who is not designated as your betrothed. _

_An emergency hearing has been called and you along with Mr Blaise Xavier Zabini and Mr Frederick Weasley are required to attend. _

_It was made clear in the letters sent out that intimate relationships between non-betrothed couples was to desist immediately upon the commencement of the Marriage Law. _

_Please find enclosed a copy of said letters and the details of your hearing. _

_Your, sincerely,_

Jeremiah Hobstitch

_Junior Deputy Head of the Department of Births and Deaths. _

Hermione groaned in frustration and fell back onto her bed. Could her life get any worse?

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_A/N I made it over 100 reviews last chapter! Thanks to remuslives, my 100th reviewer. You guys have been great with reviews, don't disappoint me now. _


	7. Chapter 7

The large hall they had been led to was intimidating, to say the least. Hermione knew she had never been here before yet something about it was definitely familiar. As they waited for their names to be called, Hermione gasped in realisation. It was the exact same room Harry had been 'tried' in, at the beginning of their fifth year. They were going to go before the full Wizengamot.

Hermione had no clue what Blaise was going to say. She had received no letter from him this morning, which surprised her. Fred had flooed to Angelina first thing, to explain what had happened. She had quickly forgiven him, she knew Hermione was one of the family.

She could see they were getting impatient but Blaise had still not arrived. Next to her, Fred sat nervously. His knee wouldn't be still and Hermione worried he would work himself up into such a panic he wouldn't be able to answer questions, and would paint them as guilty.

The entire back wall was had been transformed into a set of bleachers and it was currently full of couples, hands grasped, no doubt here to plead their case and beg for a pardon. In fact, in the first row, Percy and Penelope sat, looking confidant and relaxed.

"We'll hear another case while we wait for Mr Zabini to arrive," boomed the voice of, Hermione presumed, Jeremiah Hobstitch. He had that 'I'm not in charge yet, but you just wait' look of a Junior Deputy Head.

"Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater, you're up next."

Hermione attempted to smile reassuringly at them but she was sure it didn't come out that way. They sat and listened as Percy and Penny laid out detailed and extensive evidence to their courtship and recent engagement.

Hermione listened, half curious, as they were questioned on all aspects of their relationship. From silly things like each other's favourite colour to surveys they had had to fill out and if they could guess each other's answers.

Hermione smiled briefly as they broke out into a lover's quarrel over Penny's favourite flower. Percy had answered roses but Penny had answered tulips.

"They're not tulips. Every anniversary I get you roses," Percy said to her, ignoring his audience.

"Yes and I always hint that I like tulips better."

"But I like to get you roses," Percy stated.

"Why?"

He blushed slightly now. "Because you bath in rose oil and even if I don't have my glasses on, I can tell it's you because you smell like roses."

Penny blushed prettily and pecked Percy lightly on the lips.

They were pardoned, of course, without incident.

They were about to call the next case when the doors burst open and an angry looking Blaise strode through. Hermione swallowed audibly. He confidently approached the middle of the room and directly addressed the Chief Warlock. While he spoke, Hermione and Fred scrambled down to stand behind him.

"I apologise for my tardiness. There were some difficulties with the mail this morning. I assure it was not a deliberate action, I mean no disrespect and it is no way a reflection of my belief of my fiancé's guilt. I trust her wholeheartedly and I honestly believe this was a simple misunderstanding that can easily be rectified."

Hermione shot Blaise a brilliant smile, forgiving him from everything bad he had done, ever, and he smiled back, some of the angry tightness in his face fading away. Fred, however, was still freaking out and now swayed dangerously on his feet, his face a sickly green colour.

Hermione quickly conjured three no-nonsense chairs and they sat, facing the daunting Wizengamot.

The charges were laid out before the trio. Hermione and Fred were both charged with adulterous actions against their partners. Angelina wasn't required to be there because due to the way the law was written, Anglina still didn't have a choice with her match. However, Blaise was eligible to object to the pairing now that Hermione was 'tainted.'

Hermione wasn't the only one to not read the fine print of the letters. Apparently at the medicals, spells were placed on everyone, revealing if they had spent more then three hours in the presence of a person they weren't betrothed to between sunset and sunrise. Hermione couldn't help but think that wouldn't affect people having quick affairs in their lunch breaks or something similar.

"If I may address the charges laid before me," Hermione queried, standing up and gesturing to the Auror to open the door.

"You may," Mr Hobstitch said in his booming voice. Ginny and Harry entered and came to stand behind Fred and Hermione.

"I did spend the night in the same bed as Mr Weasley, however Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley will both testify that they were in the room the whole time and no one took their clothes off let alone engaged in sexual activity. I didn't even take my shoes off!"

"Mr Potter, Miss Weasley?"

Harry spoke for both of them, "That's correct; everyone was dressed the whole time."

Hobstitch considered this for a moment, conferring with a couple of other wizards and witches before turning back to the gathered party.

"The fact remains that you spent the night, in bed, with another man," he said to Hermione before turning to Blaise. "Mr Zabini, what do you think of this?"

Blaise also paused to think before continuing hesitantly, refusing to looking Hermione in the eyes. "Though I trust Hermione completely, I think it would be in our best interest, as a couple, if we are to marry today, and she were to move in with me. Remove the temptation." He turned and winked at Hermione.

She stood there, speechless, in shock.

"Fine," Hobstitch said, his voice ringing out over the murmuring crowd. He waved his wand and conjured a small table before them with a marriage license.

"This is the standard license all wizards and witches must sign during the marriage law. It is not as binding as a traditional wedding and it will allow you to divorce if, after three years from today, you wish to do so and no children have been produced. Do you both understand that once married, all property, assets and funds will be held in both of your names?"

"What?!" Blaise demanded.

"Only for the duration of your marriage Mr Zabini, be that three years or til you die. Anything earned, acquired or inherited after today will be jointly owned. This does not include previous holdings by either party. Agreed?" Now that he realised he wasn't going to get a scandal or a punishment out of the case, Hobstitch was eager to move them along.

Hermione and Blaise glanced warily at each other, what choice did they have?

Hermione was panicking again but figured now or in a month, either way she was going to get married, either way she wouldn't be prepared, might as well get it over with.

They nodded and approached the table. First Blaise signed and then Hermione and then Harry signed as a witness and Hobstitch signed to make it official and that was it; Hermione and Blaise were married.

She was now Hermione Zabini.


	8. Chapter 8

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_Thanks to WeasleyForMe, the best damn beta who ever existed ever. _

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Hermione sat in the room she shared with Ginny at the Burrow, staring at a blank space on the wall directly across from her.

Too soon. It had all happened too soon.

She hadn't had time to prepare, to mentally prepare for being married to Blaise. Though it was all she thought about lately, she hadn't actually sat down and thought about being married. About being a wife. When she thought about Blaise and the Marriage Law, she couldn't see past the wedding and the wedding night and apart from a few fleeting questions about where they were going to live, she had never thought about the day to day life of being married to Blaise.

Would they have breakfast together? Did he expect her to wash his clothes and make him dinner? Would they spend their evenings together watching TV or reading a book? Would they do the weekly budget together? Would it be her responsibility or his that bills get paid? Hermione shook her head. She was thinking like a muggle. There were house elves to do the work and there would be no TV at the Zabini manor.

Hermione buried her head in her hands. Too soon, it had all happened too soon.

She'd gone into shock, and it was only because Blaise suggested they go back to the Burrow so Hermione could pack that any of them had made it out of the court room. He'd half carried, half led her up to her room and then let her be to process what had happened.

"It won't be so bad, I promise," he had said before he left. Hermione didn't miss the slight look of hurt that crossed his face and Hermione would have felt guilty if she could feel anything at all.

"Pack," she commanded with a slack wave of her wand and all her possessions began packing themselves neatly into her Hogwarts trunk and a couple of smaller suitcases. Of course, all her childhood things and the items she had to leave behind when they went on the hunt were packed up in storage in muggle London along with her family photos and anything that could have reminded her parents that they once had a daughter.

_Married. I am married. Maybe for the rest of my life. Maybe for three years. I am married to Blaise Zabini. _Hermione shook her head, still not fully accepting it. _I now have a muggle hating pureblood extremist for a mother-in-law. Great. _

A knock sounded. Hermione sighed and called for them to enter.

Ron and Harry hesitantly stuck their heads around the door.

She stared at them, the two individuals who _were_ the most important people in her life up until forty-five minutes ago. The two most important men. Now she had a new man to fuss over and worry over and bully.

Her lip trembled and fell and the tears came. They were at her side before the first tear made it down her cheek, wrapping her up in their strong arms. She turned and sobbed unashamedly into Ron's chest, not caring if the rest of the house, her new husband included, could hear her. She was hurting, she was confused and if she wanted to cry, she was going to cry.

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can," Harry said from behind her, stroking her hair.

"Why would they do this to us? Do they hate us that much?"

"No one hates us, Hermione. If anyone was going to be pardoned, it was us. However, Kingsley obviously feels that it's best for our world. Zabini's not so bad. Better than Malfoy."

Hermione laughed and nodded.

"You'll be all right, Hermione," Ron said as she straightened herself and wiped her eyes. "Just lie back and think of the Ministry."

The three old friends cracked up and for a moment, and it was as if nothing had changed.

But everything had changed and Hermione's bags had finished packing themselves.

"So, this is it, I guess."

"No, it's not!" Ron practically shouted. "As we sit here and you drench us in tears, Mum and Zabini are putting together a reception to be held at the Zabini estate, and Ginny, Luna and Angelina have gone into muggle London to find you a dress. Ginny said you wanted a muggle dress."

Hermione tried, she really did, but soon the tears were flowing again, and Ron and Harry looked at her in shock, not getting the sudden outburst.

"Everyone is so sweet. I can't believe everyone would stop what they were doing to organise a reception for me. I mean, Harry, you two are getting married on Sunday. I'm sure you have a lot of things you still need to do."

"Nothing that's more important then you."

"Now, come on!" Ron jumped up and pulled her to her feet. "Harry, you get her bags." He tried dragging her out the door but Hermione planted her feet.

"Wait! Don't forget my books!"

The boys looked around, thoroughly confused. Hermione went to the desk and lifted off what looked to be an old jewellery box. She giggled and opened it showing them shelf after shelf of books smaller then matchboxes.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione I don't care if in ten years you're still married with three kids; some things never change."

Laughing, they made their way down to the living room where Blaise was waiting for them. The boys excused themselves, claiming they were going to go ahead with Hermione's stuff. Reluctantly, Hermione handed off her box of books.

She turned, finally, to Blaise and suddenly realised that the house was empty of everyone but them.

Blaise stood proudly, his hands behind his back.

"Left or right?" he asked.

"Left," Hermione asked, glad for the silly game to put off discussion of the 'M' word or worse, the 'S' word.

Blaise smiled that smile that Hermione was beginning to realise was reserved solely for her. He brought his left hand out in front of his body and held it out open, palm up. There, sitting in his hand, was a little black velvet box. Hermione reached for it and then hesitated.

"I don't have anything for you," she confessed.

He just smiled brighter and pulled out his right hand. There sat another box, this one green. She opened first the black one and then the green.

They were wedding rings. Matching gold wedding rings. Hers was smaller, more delicate but they were both engraved with the same twisting, swirled design.

"These rings," he said, snapping closed his and putting it in his pocket. He pulled hers out of the plush satin. "Were my great-grandparents' rings. My grandmother's parents."

"They're beautiful but…"

"I've checked them," he assured her. Neither was oblivious to the old curses pureblood families had a tendency of putting on their family heirlooms to prevent them being passed to muggle-borns or halfbloods. "They're just two rings, nothing else."

Hermione nodded and allowed Blaise to take her left hand, sliding the ring on with her engagement ring. With a sense of déjà vu, Blaise raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"Can I," Blaise cleared his throat and suddenly found his shoes very interesting. "Can I kiss you?"

He couldn't believe he was asking his wife, permission to kiss her. He was acting like such a pansy, but her wise intelligent eyes disarmed him. She was an old soul, and it always left him feeling like a bumbling prepubescent teen around her, no matter how well he hid it.

"Uh, okay." Hermione's heart beat accelerated and she stepped closer to him, half terrified, half exhilarated. He smiled that smile and Hermione forgot to breathe.

_He's your husband, he's a nice guy, he's not going to hurt you. _Her brain rationalised that it was perfectly normal for a husband to be kissing his wife, but that didn't stop her palms from sweating and it didn't make her remember to breathe.

His mouth was warm against hers, confidant and yet hesitant at the same time, tentatively pushing her boundaries. His tongue slid into her mouth and Hermione melted against him as he gently probed and massaged her mouth, taking his time to memorise everything about her.

He broke off and Hermione greedily sucked in air, filling her burning lungs.

The corners of Blaise's mouth tugged up into a smug smile.

"What about yours?" Hermione asked, her voice husky.

"Don't worry, pet, I enjoyed that just as much as you did."

Hermione laughed. "No, what about your ring?"

He looked surprised for a moment and then pulled out the green box and handed it to her.

Hermione willed her hands to stop shaking but they wouldn't obey and trembling like a leaf, she took Blaise's large hand in her small one and slid the ring past his clean, neat fingernails, down his long, slender finger until is rested in its place. They both stared at it a moment, as if confused about why it was there, before Blaise's hand curled around Hermione's.

"Well, Mrs Zabini, should we go to our reception?"

Hermione just nodded and allowed him to lead her to the fireplace; she didn't trust herself to speak or her legs to function on her own.

_Okay, I'll admit,_ Hermione thought, _I am attracted to my husband. _

But then she remembered the one main condition of the marriage law and a cold sweat trickled down her spine. After the reception, after the fun and games, they would have to consummate their marriage.

* * *

_Sorry about dragging this out so much. Only a couple more chapters and then they'll all be back at school and the fun can really start! lol, no, there will be no fun, but there will be a lot of drama. Enter Draco Malfoy. No, wait, enter him next chapter at the reception... I swear I'd lose my head if it wasn't super glued on... the hardware store was all out of screws. _


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N Sorry for the long wait guys, my internet _(beep) _itself. But I offer a longer chapter in a desperate attempt to win you back. _

* * *

Hermione shook the hand of yet another distant relative of Blaise's and quickly retreated out the first door she saw.

Straight into a room of pompous Slytherin males, smoking cigars. They formed a loose semi circle with Blaise in the middle, puffing merrily.

"Hermione!" he cried, holding his arms out to her. "My bride."

He was drunk, tipsy at least. And next to him, just as drunk, was Draco Malfoy, pouring them still more drinks. Half a dozen men formed the group, some from their year at school, some from the next couple of years up. Hermione recognised Marcus Flint, who had captained the Slytherin Quidditch team for a short while. The other older men she knew by face only, not by name.

Blaise had reached her now and slid his arm around her waist and pulled her back to his original position so she was now between him and Malfoy.

"Gentlemen, this is Hermione, my wife. Hermione this is Higgs, Montague, Bode, Derrick, and of course you know Goyle and Malfoy."

Hermione smiled coldly at the blonde.

"Yes well, it's hard to forget someone who spent six years bullying and teasing you and generally trying to make your life hell. Well, I should say five years. His heart wasn't really in it that sixth year. Too busy being a junior Death Eater, weren't you Draco?" Hermione paused to let her insult sink in. "If you'll excuse me…"

Hermione broke out of Blaise's arm and stormed back out into the party.

It had started off fine. She was happy to be surrounded by friends and the special people who made up her family, but as word got out about the nuptials and subsequent party, more and more people began to show up and the balance of guests tipped in favour of the Zabini family. It wasn't that Hermione didn't have people that she wanted to invite but they were either muggle, missing, dead or Hermione didn't think it was appropriate to invite them.

As she made her way through the crowd, it seemed though, that Harry and Ron had taken it upon themselves to do the inviting for Hermione, for she now recognised a lot more faces in the crowd.

She felt both out of place and uniquely special in her muggle dress. A beautiful dress that reached down to her ankles and flowed prettily as she walked. It wasn't anything like what she would have chosen for herself, it was much more daring with a tightly corseted lengthened bodice and a split that nearly reached her hip. However, she realised after putting the dress on, that if she walked slowly and didn't do any movements that were too erratic, the dress didn't move enough to reveal her leg.

"Hermione!"

She turned to find Blaise had been following her. He put a hand to her elbow and led her out a door that wouldn't have been noticed unless you knew it was there. He pushed her gently into the room.

"Your behaviour to my friend back there was inexcusable."

"Draco Malfoy's behaviour to me those six years was unforgivable!"

She refused to back down on this issue. She didn't care if Draco had given evidence against his father and hadn't done anything truly awful during the more active last year of the war, he tormented her for years and that wasn't just forgiven and forgotten because she married his friend.

"His ignorant and prejudiced thinking almost ruined my life. What if I hadn't had such good friends to help me stand up to him? What if there hadn't always been someone around to stop him acting on the juvenile bigotry his father drilled into him? Do you think that if we met in a dark ally he would just turn and walk the other way?"

"That's done now; we're living in a different time. One of the points of this marriage law is to bridge the gaps and do away with closed minded thinking of purebloods and muggleborns. You married me and I'm a pureblood."

"That's right!" Hermione advanced on him, prodding her finger into his chest. "I married _you_. I did not marry you friends and I certainly did not marry Draco Malfoy."

Hermione laid her hand on Blaise's chest and sighed, taking a moment to calm down and gather her thoughts.

"Blaise, you can't expect me to forgive him. To smile and play nice. That… boy… he hurt me. I'd rather have dinner every night with your mother than go through what he put me through again, understand? But I will _try,_ for you, because I know what an effort you are making with my friends. I will try and see him for the man he is, not the boy he was."

"Thank you," Blaise said simply.

He was surprised to be honest. Surprised at how much anger there was in her against Draco and surprised she had conceded so easily without nearly any persuasion from him. He was really trying with her friends and he wanted her to make the same effort for his friends. His friends were… less then scrupulous though, so he thought he would have a fight on his hands.

But Hermione was nothing if not a logical creature and she had quickly reigned her anger in and seen that since he was making an effort, so could she.

His respect for her grew and the smile he wore when he led her back to the party was genuine.

It fell quickly though, when the first person they ran into was Charlie Weasley, asking for a dance. It was the same Weasley that Hermione had been with when he had first come to see her. He gritted his teeth and smiled as he handed his wife over to another man. 

_She's like this with all the Weasley's,_ he reminded himself. _It's not flirting, it's familiar, like family, brothers._

Blaise watched mesmerised as Hermione moved gracefully around the dance floor. He nearly stormed onto the dance floor and yanked her away though when one spin in particularly flung her dress apart at that teasing split, revealing one long well toned leg, its honey tones set off by the green of her dress, screaming at him to touch it.

Hermione threw her head back and laughed as Charlie whispered something in her ear and that was it. With as much dignity as possible Blaise cut across the floor to them, through the other dancing couples, and tapped Charlie on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked, flashing Hermione a smile. He was pleased to see her already happy face brighten at the sight of him.

Charlie graciously stepped aside. "Of course."

The two men bowed formally to each other before Charlie walked off.

Blaise approached her and took her hand in one of his. With his other, he ran it casually up her thigh, momentarily grazing her bare skin, making her shudder in pleasure. Not caring that he was practically stomping down her boundaries, Blaise drew her close and his hand continued its journey until it landed at its destination; her lower back, just slightly above the swell of her buttocks.

Hermione had to remind herself to breath as Blaise smiled at her quickly before taking a step and leading them around the dance floor. He moved seamlessly between the couples, until the other dancers retreated to the edge of the dance floor and let them have free reign.

Their eyes locked together and Hermione wondered how he managed to keep them from colliding into the guests that had assembled to watch - what Hermione realised was - their First Dance.

"I don't think I truly appreciated Muggle clothes until right in this moment," Blaise said, his eyes raking over her pushed up bosom.

Hermione followed his gaze and blushed hotly. "Well, don't get used to it. They go back to normal when the dress comes off."

"And when will that be?" he whispered to her, causing her to blush further still.

Though his blushing bride may be a virgin, he certainly wasn't and hadn't been with a women from the moment he had kicked out that pretty blonde the morning the Daily Prophet first printed the article on the Marriage Law. His mother hadn't taught him much when it came to marriage, or life, but monogamy was surprisingly high on her very short list. She may have had a lot of husbands and lovers, but his mother had only ever had one at a time.

He'd been thinking about Hermione from the first day he had seen her at the medical and physiological tests at the ministry and he was more then ready to be with his wife. That dress with its split and shimmery bodice that revealed her perfect hourglass figure was determinedly chipping away at his self-restraint until it had him wondering why he had ever decided to agree to a stupid reception.

The dance ended and everyone applauded. Hermione smiled at the crowd, especially where Harry and the Weasley's had gathered. Mr Weasley stepped forward to dance with her in what would have been the father-daughter dance. Tears glimmered in her eyes as Blaise handed her to the older man with a kiss on the cheek. She beamed at Blaise and he realised she was both saddened and touched but so thankful she could do all these silly bridal moments.

_That's why_, Blaise sighed to himself. He was quickly realising he would cut his own arm off if it meant she would look at him the way she just did.

"You are so whipped," Draco said, handing him another drink and standing next to him to watch the pair. "If she said 'jump', you would say 'how high?'"

Blaise didn't even deny it. "Yes, I probably would." He expected further teasing from Draco but turned to see his friend watching the twirling couple intently.

"How did you do it, Zabini?" Draco asked.

"How did I do what?"

"How did you avoid becoming a death eater? How were you able to stand up to your family? How did you end up with a girl like Granger? Is there anything you want that you don't get?"

Blaise's thoughts shifted automatically, the way they always did when Draco got like this. It was a memory. Not even his, really. He was there to witness it, but that's all he was, a witness. A living video camera.

_He was staying with the Malfoy's for the weekend. The day before his grandfather had gotten him his first proper broom and he wanted to be able to ride it perfectly before his eighth birthday, just over a month away. He'd taken it with him to the Malfoy's because Draco had gotten one, too and Lucius was going to show them how to ride. _

He wasn't always bad, Lucius. For quite a few years there, before life and pressure and Voldemort and responsibility had gotten in the way, he was just a father. And the Malfoys were just like any other family. More snobbish and with more money then they knew what to do with, sure, but the basic principle still applied.

_They had been circling a small cluster of trees when a bird flew out and startled Draco and he'd fallen from his broom. He wasn't hurt but Blaise watched as Lucius and Narcissa rushed to his aid, fussing over him. _

_His grandparents were the same to him, especially his grandmother, worrying over every little graze, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as if it was your parents. He couldn't remember his mother ever kneeling by his side in the grass and frantically checking to make sure nothing was broken. _

Draco often accused Blaise of getting whatever he wanted, but he'd trade his apparently simply life for just one memory like that, that he could claim happened to him. Two parents who loved him more then anything, if only for a while. A mother who would risk everything for him and father who only wanted what he thought was best.

Blaise shook his head and slapped his hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Don't you know? The world just likes me more." Blaise grinned at the scowling Draco and went to see that everything was ready in his wing of the house with appropriate wards to keep his mother out. He couldn't give Hermione what she wanted, no one could. But he'd make what _had_ been given to them, as easy on her as possible.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N Thanks to Grande.Vanilla.Skim.Latte who betaed the next couple of chapters for me (backwards lol, sorry Amy)_

* * *

Hermione sat in her seat and scowled at the guests. She didn't see why they had to do speeches. She hated this part of weddings the most. She saw no need for their friends and family to stand up and tell embarrassing stories or worse, cute mushy stories.

But Hermione was Hermione so she gritted her teeth and smiled as Harry stood up to deliver the first speech.

"I don't think there is a person in the wizarding world who doesn't know the name Hermione Granger. She's almost as famous as me."

The crowd laughed and Hermione couldn't help it, she laughed too. It was a rare moment when Harry would joke about his celebrity status.

"But few people," he continued, "know the true Hermione. Many think they know her; the bushy haired know-it-all bookworm –"

"Gee, thanks Harry!" Hermione called and everyone laughed again, even the evil purebloods. Though that may have had more to do with the copious amounts of liquor they had consumed rather then that they found it amusing. Anything was amusing to them at the moment; spirits were definitely high.

"Like I was saying, few truly know her. Few are privileged to see the woman that she is; beautiful, honest, fiercely loyal and passionately determined to make this the best world possible for her friends, her family, for strangers, for enemies and for every living creature that dwells here with us. She never backs down, but stands tall and proud with the decisions she has made. If I hadn't met that bushy haired know-it-all bookworm on the train that first day I don't know where I would be. Dead, probably. But if I had somehow managed to survive, I know my life would not be even half as fulfilled as it is now, with her in it.

"Hermione Granger is more then a friend, more then a best friend, she's my sister. She stood by me in our darkest days and now I'm proud to stand by her in what I'm sure she will remember as her brightest. To Hermione!"

Hermione stood and hugged Harry tightly as everyone raised their glasses to her and drank deeply.

"Thank you," she whispered. They were each other's family, orphaned in one way or another and left to each other. Their friendship, their love, their bond, was unconditional.

Harry hugged her back just as enthusiastically and didn't miss the glare Blaise shot at him. He laughed it off and turned back to Hermione.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Harry."

"Alright, alright," Draco said, standing with his glass and Hermione sat back down next to Blaise, laughing as he heard him groan.

"Well, I guess it's my turn to sing Blaise's praises. He never saved the world but I'll try to come up with something just as flowery as Potter."

This, too, got a laugh from the crowd, even the 'good' side of the guests, just as sloshed as the side of questionable morals. Hermione could tell Draco was rotten drunk. And though his words were kind and honest, she had a feeling he would never have revealed them without a good deal of alcohol in his system.

"Blaise never aspired to save the world. He is happy to live his life the best way he knows how. He works hard in school and at home and some of you may be surprised to learn, he loves just as hard. Like Gra- Hermione, he is a loyal and good friend. You never have to ask him for anything, because he has already offered it. Selfless to a fault, he would do anything for a friend, for family, for his wife."

Hermione didn't want to but she smiled at Draco, only for a moment.

"He's a good man, his family, Hermione included, should be proud. I've never met a better man. To Blaise!"

Hermione couldn't help it, she snorted. She believed he spoke the truth, but that it was coming from Draco, that Blaise was the best man he knew, wasn't saying much. It was like standing in a room full of Death Eaters and choosing the most honest man.

Luckily, people had applauded and no one heard her less then well-mannered snort.

Blaise stood and shook Draco's hand before turning to address their guests.

"I would like to take a moment to thank Mrs Weasley and my mother for putting all this together in just a couple of hours. And to Ginny, Luna and Angelina for choosing the dress for my beautiful bride to wear. Doesn't she look beautiful?"

Hermione blushed as the crowd cheered their agreement, accompanied by a few wolf whistles from Charlie and the twin's direction.

On and on it went. They told stories, anecdotes, made speeches, thanked people and toasted anyone who came to mind. As they got progressively inebriated, the randomness just got worse. At one stage, a very drunk Pansy stood, supported by George, to toast to the Marriage Law. That toast received the loudest cheer of all and Hermione just shook her head. At least they were all enjoying themselves.

Hagrid sat in the corner with Professor Slughorn, their table littered with bottles of wine, and what appeared to be the contents of Hagrid's coat spread out across the table. Hagrid kept picking items up and pressing them into the Professor's hands. They seemed to have become good drinking buddies after that first night bonding over the death of Hagrid's acromantula, Aragog.

All around the room, the most random sort of people were hooking up and Hermione's fuzzy mind took a while to realise that they must have been the Marriage Law pairs. Her and Blaise's wedding was the first big social wedding of the Law and in people were using it as an excuse to get drunk and get to know their partners better. She smiled as she watched Neville dance with his intended, Hannah Abbott, with more confidence then she'd ever seen in the boy. However, that also had a lot to do with his role in the final battle. Before the Law, Hermione had heard the Mr Longbottom had definitely been enjoying his newfound popularity with the women.

She giggled as Ron and Luna reappeared from the gardens. Ron looked like he had just one the lottery and Luna was reapplying her lip-gloss. Those two had been nearly inseparable once they both got over the shock of their match. And they were a good match.

She noticed that Draco didn't seem to have a match and wondered if he'd already scared off the woman the ministry had matched him with. When she mentioned it to Blaise, he had told her of Draco not being matched with anyone. That he would have to wait a couple of years as more girls came of age to see if he would be matched with anyone. Until then he was free to date girls from different countries.

On the way to the bathroom, Hermione had come across a teary Millicent Bulstrode.

"Are you alright, Millicent?" Hermione asked, sitting next to her on the couch. It was an odd place for a couch, in the hallway, but it was a large house and she supposed it might be necessary to rest for a moment.

"I'm fine, it's just…"

"Yes?"

"I've been rematched with Lee Jordan!" she cried.

"Rematched?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Yes, I was originally matched with Percy Weasley and," she paused to glance around to check no one was listening, "I've always had a bit of a crush on Percy. I was really happy with the match. I mean, he told me he was going to get a pardon but they're so hard to get, I didn't think he'd get one. But he did and I had to be rematched. Today was the last day of pardons and I've been rematched with Lee."

Hermione bit back the laugh that threatened to escape. She was crying over Percy!

"Don't all parties have to consent to a pardon?" Hermione asked, keeping her other comments to herself.

"I did! He looked so happy with that Penelope girl, I just wanted to make him happy but now I wish I had never done it. I want Percy!"

"Oh, Millicent. Lee is a lovely man. He's funny and smart and quite good looking, don't you think?"

"He's alright," she muttered.

"And, Pansy's marrying George and he and Lee are really good mates, so that's a plus, right?" Hermione didn't give her a chance to respond but pushed on.

"And, he's got a great job on the radio and as a commentator for the Pro Quidditch League. You'll never want for anything."

"I suppose," Millicent finally admitted reluctantly. She hugged Hermione unexpectedly. "Thanks, I feel much better now."

Hermione patted her arm and continued on towards the bathroom. It wouldn't be a party without at least one crying female.

But now Hermione was getting tired and thought that if Blaise didn't stop drinking soon, they wouldn't _ have_ a wedding night, he would be passed out cold.

So when there was a lull in the speeches she stood and delicately tapped her champagne glass.

"Thank you everyone for coming. No one here is ignorant of the fact that under normal circumstances, we wouldn't all be here together, celebrating this union. But here we are and you have all made it an evening I will never forget, though there are a few things I wish we _could_ forget." She turned her pointed gaze to the twins who had taken it upon themselves to drag up every story in which Hermione and Draco had ever be mean to each other, including but not limited to the time he expanded her teeth and the time she had hit him.

"I think we sit here, a perfect example that we all can get along. Unity is not just a dream of a crazy old dead man, but a realistic goal we call work towards. Once we are able to break down –"

"I think what my wife is trying to say is, 'Thanks everyone for coming and not fighting like a bunch of gnomes on crack.'" Hermione glared at Blaise and his interruption but everyone else just laughed. "Now, it's late, we appreciate you celebrating with us, but now its time for a more _private_ celebration, so get out!"

Hermione blushed so red she thought her hair would catch fire, but no one noticed as they laughed heartily and began gathering their things. Yelling goodbyes across the crowded room, in small groups people began vacating the large ballroom until only a small contingent of family and friends remained.

Blaise went to talk to Draco, giving Hermione the privacy to talk to Ginny, Mrs Weasley, Ron and Harry who had lingered.

She hugged each of them tightly, thanking them, yet again.

"Blaise seems like a good man," Mrs Weasley slurred slightly. "He'll be a gentle lover."

"Mum!" cried Ron and Ginny while Harry tried to hide his snicker.

"Go!" Ginny directed her mother to one of the fireplaces and instructed the boys to help her home. "Go home you drunk old witch."

Hermione giggled nervously and clasped Ginny's hands.

"Have you ever… with Harry?"

Ginny's ears tinged pink but she shook her head.

"No, not all the way. So I'm relying on you to ease my fears between now and Sunday night."

Hermione giggled again, she'd had a little too much champagne.

"What if it's awful, Gin?" she whispered. "What if it hurts?"

"I don't know, Hermione. I know the mechanics of it, but its different for everyone, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I just…"

"Hermione?" Blaise called to her.

They turned to find they were the only ones left.

"It's getting late…" He trailed off, not wanting to push Ginny out but he wanted to be alone with his wife.

"Right, sorry, you must be tired."

Ginny giggled. "Yes, I'm sure a good night's sleep is what he has in mind."

"Goodnight Ginny!" Hermione said and after a quick hug pushed her smart mouthed friend towards the fireplace. "Thanks for your unhelpful parting words."

"OWL me tomorrow, we still need to do the final dress fitting and see the florist and finalise the seating arrangements –"

"Goodnight, Ginny." Blaise had spoken, not harshly, but it was final and Ginny quickly ducked into the fireplace.

They were alone, finally. Hermione glanced timidly at Blaise and he laughed nervously.

"Shall we?" he asked and held his hand out to Hermione. She took it and he led her though the maze that was his house until they stopped outside a large, impressive set of double doors.

"This is my room. If you want, you can stay with me or that," he pointed to a smaller but no less impressive set of doors across the hall "is your room."

"I'd like my own room, if you don't mind."

He smiled tightly. "Of course, I'll have your things moved in first thing… tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, showing both her agreement and her understanding of the word, 'tomorrow.' Tonight they had business together, in _his_ room.

"Shall we?" she asked, echoing his words, and he flashed her a quick smile.

"Don't look so scared, Hermione. It's sex, not torture."

"I'm not scared," she said quickly, trying to convince herself more then him and fooling no one. He just shook his head and laughed lightly.

Blaise turned and dramatically pushed open the doors.

The words fell from Hermione's mouth before she could stop them, "Holy shit."

* * *

_A/N I'm posting another chapter right after this one because I don't know when I'll be on again. I beg beg beg you, if you have the time and intend to review, review _this _chapter, before reading the next. I'm not fishing for reviews, I don't want 'great chapter' or 'cute', I would like proper opinions on this chapter because for some reason I've become terribly insecure about the direction of this story. I don't want it to be too fluffy so... yeah. If you have the time, constructive feedback would be highly appreciated!  
_

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	11. Chapter 11

_A/N Thanks to Grande.Vanilla.Skim.Latte who betaed the next couple of chapters for me (backwards lol, sorry Amy)_

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The best, most expensive hotel Hermione had ever been to had nothing on this room. Luxurious didn't even begin to cover it.

Of course, it normally didn't have dozens of lit candles surrounding the room, rose petals covering the bed, a table full of fresh fruit, chocolate and cream, champagne, soft music playing, the fire lit.

The room looked like every girl's most romantic fantasies… _had come here to die. _

She couldn't help but laugh as she spotted the lacy, barely there nightie and matching silk robe laid out on the bed and the long silk pyjama bottoms waiting for Blaise.

It was like a bad scene from a trashy romance novel.

"What's wrong?" Blaise asked anxiously. "Did I miss something?"

Hermione laughed again, temporarily forgetting about the reason the room was so excessively decorated. "No, I think you pretty much have it all covered. It's just…"

She gestured to the numerous romantic clichés around her.

"It's too much. I'm on romance overload."

Blaise's face fell and Hermione instantly felt like a bitch.

"Tell you what," she said quickly. "Why don't you blow out the candles, stop the music, pick up the rose petals and I'll go and get changed."

"Okay," he said dejectedly.

Blaise was mentally kicking himself. How could he get it so wrong? This sort of treatment worked on other girls.

He watched as Hermione delicately picked up the lingerie and slipped into the en suite to change. With a wave of his wand, the rose petals were gone and the music stopped. He changed quickly and, moving around the room, he blew out all but a few candles. He poured himself a glass of champagne, suddenly regretting the sobering potion he had taken. He felt rotten, like a failure and wished he could be feeling the effects of an evening spent drinking.

Why hadn't she liked it? She was a girl, wasn't she?

_But she's not like other girls_, he reminded himself. _She won't be fooled with sweet words and rose petals. _

Blaise glanced at the door where Hermione was still hiding. He couldn't even imagine how nervous she must be. No, wait, yes he could, he was just as nervous, but in a different way.

He had no doubt as to what his wife and her friend were talking about. If he was bad, Hermione would tell Ginny. Ginny would tell Potter and Potter would tell Weasley. Weasley would tell his brothers and soon everyone would know that Blaise Zabini could not pleasure his wife.

He shook his head. He was a good lover, he knew he was. He excelled at everything he tried and sex was no different.

Laughing at his unfounded insecurities, he took a strawberry and dipped it in first the chocolate and then in the cream. He made his way over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.

Inside, Hermione froze. She had been nervously running her hands through her hair, trying to tame it after a night spent in an over-crowded, sweaty room. Her fears and nervousness had come crashing back to her ten-fold as soon as the door closed behind her.

"It's now or never," she whispered to her reflection and checked over her outfit one last time.

When Hermione opened the door, she found Blaise casually leaning against the doorframe, holding out a chocolate covered strawberry to her.

She fought the smile that was trying to break out on her face and with more confidence then she thought she had, Hermione leaned forward and carefully bit into the strawberry. She sighed at the explosion of flavours in her mouth and her tongue darted out to capture the drop of chocolate that hung on her bottom lip.

If Blaise hadn't already stopped breathing at the sight of her in the pale blue negligee, her moist pink tongue teasing along her full bottom lip would certainly have done it. As it was, Blaise was not entirely convinced his heart hadn't stopped beating along with his breathing.

"Please stop staring at me," Hermione said after a while when Blaise still hadn't moved.

He shook his head and moved out of the way so she could enter the room, now devoid of all rose petals. She nodded her approval and turned back to Blaise. They stood in the middle of the room, facing each other.

They were silent for two hundred and forty-two heartbeats. Hermione knew, she was counting.

"You have to say something,_ do_ something!" Hermione cried.

Blaise started at her sudden outburst. "Sorry, I don't… What do you want me to do?"

The fire crackled behind Hermione and a gentle breeze blew in through the slightly opened window, blowing fresh air around the warm room. It was the middle of summer, yet Blaise had insisted on a fire and that a cooling charm be placed on the room.

Hermione crossed to the window and parted the curtain, relishing the cool air on her overheated skin. He hadn't even touched her yet her skin was already warm and it positively vibrated in anticipation.

If he kept looking at her like that, she might just spontaneously combust.

Blaise didn't know what was wrong with him, usually woman threw themselves at him. He very rarely had to seduce a woman and though he wanted nothing more than to touch Hermione's skin that shimmered in the firelight, the way she just stood there was making him insecure.

She was still by the window, staring out into the darkness. The wind ruffled her hair, blowing it off her shoulder, exposing her neck. Blaise swallowed and crossed to her. He momentarily considered letting Hermione take things at her own pace but quickly realised if he did that, they would be divorced before the marriage was ever consummated. She was just anxious. Once she realised that it was something to be enjoyed, she wouldn't need to be seduced, she would come to him.

Hermione felt him come to stand behind her and drawing on her last reserves of courage she shrugged out of the robe and let it pool at their feet. She turned to face him and was surprised to find him watching her so intently.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly. "I'm sorry I'm…"

"You're sorry you're what?" Blaise asked gently.

Hermione blushed and let her eyes drop to Blaise's bare chest. "I'm sorry I'm not more beautiful or more experienced."

Blaise laughed, his voice low and quiet. "What a silly thing to be sorry for. I'm going to say this once and then never again, okay?"

"Okay…" Hermione said slowly, raising her eyes to meet his.

"I don't want to ever hear you say something like that again, okay? I don't care if you had never had a single kiss or had slept with thirty men. It's just you and I in here and _this_ I plan to tell you ever single day; you are beautiful."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up.

I'm not going to lie to you Hermione, I haven't been what you would call celibate these last few years, but I plan on putting every piece of knowledge I have gained to good use on you. I am going to seduce you, pleasure you, _make love to you_," he whispered the last part in her ear, keeping his tone low and husky, "Now that I have you all to myself I am making it my personal mission to have you wanting me so badly that you will practically beg me to take you between classes. At times the ache will become so unbearable that you will be forced to ambush me in the hallways, panting about all the ways you want me to take you, how good it feels having me inside you, hard, fast, from behind, on top, underneath, standing up, kneeling, lying down, you will want it all as badly as I want you know and you will wonder how you ever lived without it before"

As Blaise continued to describe all the naughty things he was going to do to her, he touched her. Hermione's skin flamed as his hands explored ever inch of exposed skin. His fingers trailed down her arms, to the very tips of her fingers and back up again, along her throat and across her cheeks.

He took her face gently between his hands and pressed his mouth firmly against hers.

The fire died suddenly and it took him a moment to realise Hermione had done it.

"If you keep speaking to me like that, I might accidentally set the room on fire," she gasped as his lips moved along her throat and down her chest.

He chuckled and Hermione could feel his body, pressed tightly against hers, shake.

"With the things I plan to do to you, we could set the house ablaze."

She had no idea. She had read the technical, biological side of sex. She had read the overly romanticised version in books, but she didn't really believe that it could be like that. She thought it was an exaggerated description cooked up by bored housewives to give other bored housewives something to do while Sally and Billy went off to school. But, Merlin, it was true.

Blaise picked her up and placed her gently on the bed. He could have taken her right there, was tempted to. But he knew if he did, she may never come to him again.

He inched over her body, taking the time to taste her, feel her, letting her get used to him at the same time he learnt every part of her. He pushed the nightie up past her knees as his mouth found hers again.

Hermione had stopped thinking. Her body was screaming for Blaise to touch her. His mouth worked hungrily against hers, just as desperate to be touched, but she was lost in her own pleasure. She could feel one of his hands on her thigh and the other on her breast, blissfully massaging it through the fabric of her nightie. His thumb skimmed across her budded nipple and Hermione moaned as it sent shivers straight down her spine.

Blaise's hand kept up its pace with her nipple, while his tongue continued to plunge into her mouth, stealing her breath and the small noises of pleasure she made.

His other hand though, had finally found what it was looking for and using a knee, he gently pushed her legs apart, opening her up for better access for his hand. His fingers played in her soft curls a moment before finding her soft flesh, manipulating the sensitive pearl with one long finger.

Hermione's moan couldn't be silenced as his fingers worked expertly across her nexus, readying her for him. While his thumb continued to massage and flick across her clit, he slowly and carefully slipped a finger into her. She instinctually tightened up and Blaise's cock tightened in turn.

His hips ground against her thigh, looking for some relief, while his hands and mouth worked at relaxing her. But he couldn't. She was definitely enjoying it, but there was something still holding her back. She was not letting go completely.

He eased himself off her body and sat up a very confused Hermione.

_Wasn't he enjoying it?_ Hermione panicked. _Wasn't that his… erection against my thigh? _

But Blaise simply stripped off her nightie, revealing her rounded body; a woman's body, he thought to himself, all full hips and soft natural breast. His eyes feasted on her a moment before pushing her gently down onto her back and positioning himself between her legs.

Hermione's eyes went wide in surprise. She knew what he was about to do but had read that not all men would do it. It was supposed to be very pleasurable. The stimulation of his tongue against –

_Oh, all that is holy and good in the world, let this never stop. _

Hermione's head fell back and her back arched up as Blaise's tongue lapped at her, teasing and nipping at her clit until Hermione's little mews became cries of pleasure, echoing off the walls.

His fingers were back inside her, massaging her tight walls from the inside until he felt them clench up again, but this time it was as she neared her climax. He smirked to himself as his mouth picked up speed, twisting and licking and darting all around Hermione's womanhood.

Hermione unashamedly ground herself into Blaise, rocking her hips against him as she felt her climax build.

"Blaise, oh Blaise!" she cried as he pulled her through her orgasm.

She barely registered him pulling his fingers out of her and quickly stripping off his pants. He made a split second decision, partly fuelled by his own desire, partly hoping it would be best for Hermione if it was over before she ever realised it was happening. He climbed back over her, positioned himself at her entrance and didn't hesitate to thrust into her in one quick movement.

Hermione cried out in pain as Blaise broke through her last remaining barrier of innocence.

"Just relax and try to breathe normally," Blaise whispered in her ear.

Hermione's breath came hard as the pain seemed to radiate throughout her entire body. She listened to Blaise's voice as he continued to whisper in her ear and slowly her breathing returned to normal.

"It hurts," she whispered and wiped at the tears that flowed into her hair.

"I know, I'm sorry," Blaise said. He was tense above her and Hermione knew it must have been taking a lot of concentration to keep so still. She moved her hips slightly and realised that though it was still slightly uncomfortably, it didn't hurt like it had only moments ago.

"I'm ready, I think."

Blaise chuckled and bent down to kiss her. Hermione kissed him back eagerly, amazed at how easy it was to be with Blaise once she let herself.

He began to move, still kissing her and Hermione responded. She quickly realised it was better for all involved if she moved with him instead of just lying there.

In long smooth thrusts, Blaise worked them both towards their end, pausing every so often to take one of Hermione's nipples into his mouth and suckling on it.

Hermione's hands moved with a will of their own. They ran free over Blaise's body. Their skins glistened with sweat and Hermione was glad she put the fire out.

He stilled for a moment before his hips moved unexpectedly, causing a surprising amount of pleasure, and Hermione's fingernails dug into his back, scraping at his skin.

Blaise's body reacted to the pain, thrusting roughly up into her again causing Hermione to groan in satisfaction.

Smirking, Blaise grabbed Hermione's hands and pinned them above her head. He moved against her, harder and rougher then before.

There was no denying that Hermione's cries were that of enjoyment and Blaise laughed.

His innocent little witch liked it rough.

He felt her tighten around him as he continued to grind into her.

"Blaise, I'm – I'm –I'm"

She clamped down on him tightly and Blaise's gasped as her body dragged him over the edge with her, arching up into his as they climaxed together.

He lay over her, panting, supporting his weight on his elbows. He kissed her neck and withdrew from her, rolling onto his back and pulling her close.

"Are you okay?" he asked when they got their breath back. He felt her nod against his chest.

"A little sore but that's normal, right?"

"Yeah, that's normal." He kissed her temple and gently stroked his fingers along her arm.

They lay quiet for so long, Hermione was sure he had fallen asleep. Her feelings were so conflicted. There was no doubt her body reacted positively to Blaise, but her heart was still hesitant. She knew if she let herself, she could love him. From what she'd seen so far, the Ministry was right and he was a good match. But what if she fell for him and then after three years, he tossed her aside?

"Hermione," Blaise mumbled.

"Mmm?"

"You're more then I could have hoped for."

He snuggled in closer to her and then promptly fell asleep. Hermione laughed quietly and slipped out of bed. She showered quickly and came back into Blaise's room, pacing next to the bed.

_This is bad, I'm falling for him. Stop falling for him! _

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed.

_I'll talk to him,_ Hermione decided. _It will be an awkward conversation, but its best to get everything out on the table to begin with. Where does he see us in three years? Does he see children? Will we always live with his mother…? _

Hermione's thoughts went on and on until she finally drifted off to sleep just as the sun was rising, curled up against Blaise. Her mind was made up, they were married and though they may not be in love, she would be damned if she didn't put her whole heart into making them work. Hermione Gra- no, Hermione Zabini was not a quitter.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N Sorry for the wait guys but my internet is still buggered. _

_**Last time in **_**Lie Back...**_ Hermione and Blaise find themselves quite compatible in the bedroom but Hermione is still unsure on just how her marriage is going to turn out. We pick up our story a few days later, on the eve of Ginny and Harry's wedding... _

* * *

Harry and Ginny were getting married the next day and Hermione was exhausted. Even with Mrs Weasley practically planning the entire wedding herself, the woman still managed to find a dozen jobs for Hermione to do. She had just managed to get the last one done – organising paid house elves to waiter – and had only twenty minutes to shower and dress for dinner. Blaise's mother had been so insulted at Hermione and Blaise's decision to live together as a married couple that she had packed her bags and gone to stay in one of their country houses until the pair went back to school.

With the departure of Mrs Zabini though, came the arrival of Blaise's grandmother, his beloved grandmother who was like a mother to him. Hermione had thought she was nervous meeting Mrs Zabini but it was nothing compared to meeting the most important woman in Blaise's life.

Hermione dumped her shopping bags on the bed and flicked her wand at them. They started to put themselves away in the closet save a midnight blue robe that she planned to wear that night.

She jumped in the shower, careful not to wet the delicate curls the hairdresser had used eight different spells on. They would last for three days, but Hermione knew her hair and she didn't want to take any chances. She dried quickly and practically jumped into the dress, making a mental note to thank Blaise for the line of credit he had established for her at nearly every store in Diagon Ally.

She hated to accept the money but some logical words from Ginny and Mrs Weasley soon had Hermione calmed and half a dozen new dresses bought. Dinner was, after all, a formal affair.

Hermione ran frantically around the room, searching for where she had put her jewellery. Though she spent the last two nights with Blaise, she still had her own room and bathroom. She didn't know why, but it was important to Hermione to have somewhere that was just hers.

She located her earrings by the book she had put aside to read but hadn't had the chance yet and practically leapt down the stairs, belatedly remembering to smear some lipstick on_. Oh well, too late for that now. _

Pausing before the drawing room doors, Hermione smoothed her figure hugging dress and pushed a stray curl off her face. She took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.

Blaise was by her side instantly, giving Hermione a peck on the cheek. He led her over to the chairs and as he looked at the old woman standing by one of the comfy armchairs, a soft smile lit his features.

"This is my grandmother, Lizzy. Grandma, this is my wife, Hermione."

Hermione smiled and bit back her gasp of surprise when the older witch embraced her warmly.

"It's a pleasure, my dear, to finally meet you. I would have come sooner but, well, my daughter and I don't exactly see eye to eye and I didn't want to cause a scene."

Hermione smiled at the older woman, instantly at ease. "That's quite understandable. I apologize for not coming to see you but it seems every single on of my friends is getting married in the next month and there's so much to be done."

Blaise took a seat beside Hermione on the couch and placed a casual hand on her knee. She jumped slightly, she couldn't help it. She was still getting used to Blaise and his affectionate touches weren't second nature to her yet.

"I'm sure a lot of them will be returning to school," Lizzy offered. "And wish to be settled before being in such a public setting. No one judges others quite like hormonal teenagers."

Hermione laughed. "That's true. Thank Merlin Pansy isn't going back. Oh, sorry."

The Parkinson and Zabini's were family friends and Hermione had just insulted their only daughter. But Lizzy simply waved it off.

"She can be a right little cow."

"She has changed a lot, I must admit. George is good for her, I think."

Next to her, Blaise chuckled.

"That would be one of the twins who own the joke shop, yes? I heard that was her match. Tell me, Hermione, is he a good man?"

Hermione thought seriously a moment. George was honest and kind and good but did that necessarily mean a good husband? Then she remembered the way both the twins were so protective of Ginny and even Hermione at times.

"Yes, a very good man. He likes to joke and have fun, but he knows when to be serious, too. And you couldn't find more loyal people then the Weasleys."

"Good, I am pleased."

There was a silence, slightly awkward as Lizzy studied Hermione.

"Do you come from good breeding stock, Hermione? Lots of brothers and sisters?"

"Grandma!" Blaise admonished but Hermione just laughed.

Lizzy Zabini had that I'm-old-I-can-ask-anything-I-want aura to her and Hermione found it delightfully refreshing.

"No, unfortunately. I'm an only child as was my mother. My father has two sisters but they are much older then him. I'm ashamed to say I don't see a lot of my muggle family. Especially since…"

Hermione lowered her eyes. The feelings of guilt she could usually suppress over sending her parents away crept up on her unexpectedly at times.

"Yes, Blaise told me about what you did for them. That was very brave of you. Not many people would have the skill or the courage to do it."

Hermione smiled tightly. Though she appreciated the words, it was nothing she hadn't heard a hundred times before.

Fortunately for her, the bell tolled, signalling dinner was ready. Blaise helped his grandmother to her feet and led both women into the dining room. He again helped his grandma while Hermione simply seated herself.

Dinner couldn't have been more opposite to the one with Blaise's mother. Conversation was often punctuated by laughter. Lizzy simply adored Hermione. She loved everything about her, all her little anecdotes about her adventures, her wit and her intelligence, her peculiar muggle customs but most of all she respected Hermione's strength. Her ability to push through the bad times, to hold her own and her resilience.

Hermione, in turn, fell in love with Lizzy. She'd never had a grandmother, both her mother and father's parents dying before Hermione could even remember them. It amused her to study Blaise around the older woman. It was like he was a completely different person. All the snobbery and superiority was gone. There was not a trace of arrogance on his features as he was scolded for putting his elbows on the table or for not eating enough greens.

Towards the end of dinner, Hermione received an owl. It was in Ron's messy scrawl and demanded her presence at Grimmauld Place immediately.

"Anything wrong?" Blaise asked across the table.

"I fear there might be. Ron has asked I meet him and I think I better go."

Blaise agreed and Hermione excused herself, apologizing profusely for having to cut their dinner short.

She didn't even change, just flooed straight to the dilapidated old building. She hadn't been back there since the war. She come out of the fireplace in the kitchen into a horror scene.

The room was filled with drunk, laughing, drooling idiot men.

"Hermione!" they cried.

Harry, Ron, the twins, Neville, Charlie, Bill, Lee Jordan and even Percy sat around the table. Bottles of Firewhisky and Elderflower wine littered the table and most of the men swayed dangerously in their seats.

"What _are_ you doing?" Hermione demanded.

"Bachelors' night!" Ron slurred. "You had to be here, you're one of the guys!"

"Not in that dress she's not!" Charlie laughed to himself and Hermione blushed as the men, no boys, all looked at her with renewed interest. Well, not Harry, he was already passed out, his head on the table, and not Percy, his eyes focused determinedly on Hermione's left ear.

"Have a drink with us, Nerhiome!" Neville called, stumbling to his feet and pulling out a seat for her.

She laughed and sat down. "One drink. One."

The only girl in a group of drunken idiot men was not her ideal choice of location but Ron was right, she was one of the guys and it was only fitting she be here. Her last act of recklessly following Ron and Harry around before she settled down to be a proper wife.

* * *

Three hours later a _very_ cranky Ginny followed by an amused Blaise stepped through the fireplace.

The others had fallen asleep but Hermione, Ron and a woken Harry were sitting around the fireplace in the upstairs drawing room.

"I can't believe you're married, Hermione," Ron said, shaking his head. "To _Blaise._ And I'm going to marry Luna. Loony Luna Lovegood is going to be my wife. Merlin, you don't think she's going to try anything… strange on the wedding night do you?"

Harry and Hermione laughed and Ron tried to throw a cushion at them. They settled for a moment and Harry turned his attention to Hermione.

"What's it like, Hermione? Being married?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, Harry. It's only been a couple of days." She made a face. "It's strange. I thought it would be like friends, but with, you know, _sex._" She whispered the last word, blushing profusely, and the boys howled with laughter. "But it's more then just friends. Like I said, its only been a couple of days, but its like I'm giving more of myself to him, then I would a friend, but it's okay, because he's giving just as much back. Give me a couple of months, and I think I'll love him."

"Oh, we can't tease you about that," Ron complained.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's not funny at all."

Hermione smile and shrugged her shoulders before shaking her head.

"What about you, lover boy?" she nudged Ron with her foot. "How do you feel about Luna?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks as a dreamy expression crossed Ron's face. "She's great. No, really, once you get passed the… oddness, she's great. She's got this wicked sense of humour and she's beautiful and she's just so…" He sighed and they laughed again.

"Harry James Potter and Ronald Bilius Weasley you better have a good explanation for kidnapping Hermione!" Ginny stormed from the doorway.

"Harry don't look!" Hermione jumped on Harry, trying to cover his eyes. "It's after midnight and it's bad luck to see the bride."

They overbalanced and toppled to the floor, giggling like hyena's.

"She's drunk! You lot got her drunk. Hermione, get up and go home. You will not look hung over in my wedding photos. And you two," she jabbed her fingers towards her brother and her fiancé while Blaise helped Hermione up. "You two better take some sobering potion, get to sleep and if you are late tomorrow _no one_ will be having a wedding night, understand?" They nodded sagely, Harry with his eyes closed tightly.

"Hermione, say goodnight," Blaise instructed her.

"Goodnight!" she called as Blaise and Ginny helped her down the stairs and through the fireplace.

Ginny shook her head at Hermione as Blaise went through first to catch her on the other side.

"I don't now how you three managed to get through seven years without getting yourselves killed. Look at you, you're a drunken mess!"

"Ginny, don't be so cranky, this time tomorrow you'll be married! Married, married and we'll all live happily ever after!" She took her friend's hands in her and look Ginny in the eye. "I promise…"

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N Thank you to Monnbeam for my 300th review! Woo! you guys are awesome. I read and appreciate every single _

_review you guys give. _

* * *

"So, it's been a month, how do you think things are going?"

Hermione sat across from Dr Cutie and tapped her nails against the arm of the chair. She shrugged her shoulders and he frowned at her.

"Think harder."

Hermione sighed and sat up straighter in her chair.

"It's going fine, I suppose. I mean at first it was good, great even. He was great and I was great and it was…"

"Great?"

Hermione allowed herself a smile. "Yes. But now it's as if the novelty of it has worn off or something. He's still kind and attentive and things are… enthusiastic in bed, but he's gone a lot. And I am too, I suppose. I with my friends and he's with his. It's like, when we're together its good, but we're having trouble meshing our lives together. But that's to be expected right?"

"Right." He nodded. "Of course there is going to be an adjustment period whenever you merge two lives together. You can't expect things to just work themselves out overnight or because you decide you want them to. Your relationship with Blaise may not run smoothly for months, years even."

"It's just…" Hermione hesitated and studied her nails for a moment. Dr Cutie waited for her to continue patiently, a suspicion forming as to his patient's train of thought.

"My other friends seem to have fallen into their matches really easily."

He smiled knowingly.

"I'm sure it seems that way to you."

"No, it is that way. Well, no, not with all of them."

She thought about poor Charlie, not able to obtain a pardon. He and Alicia were married the day before, at the Ministry, no celebration before, during or after.

"But most of them have moved in together without missing a beat. Ron's found someone else to mother him, Harry and Ginny were destined and all the other Weasleys, bar Charlie, are always with their spouses and their friends, laughing and happy."

Hermione threw her hands up in frustration.

"It's like I can have one or the other. I can have a happy relationship with my husband or I can have a good time with my friends. Since the reception, I haven't been able to have both."

Hermione sighed and dropped her head into her hands.

"I was made Head Girl. School starts soon and Blaise's friend, Draco, was made Head Boy. We'll be forced together, hopefully we can be… friendly and that will help."

"Draco Malfoy?" Dr Cutie's eyebrows drew together in a frown. "They made him Head Boy?"

"I know! That's crazy, right? I'm not the only one who thinks it's madness? He tried to kill Dumbledore! He aligned himself with whoever had the greater chance of saving his arse. If he was merely a product of his raising, I could forgive him but – but – but. I don't know. If he was raise by not evil parents he may have come out alright but he wasn't. He was raised by an evil, evil man."

"What about Blaise?"

"What about Blaise?" His question confused her.

"What does he think about Draco? What does he think about not getting Head Boy? What does he think about you getting Head Girl?"

"I don't know," Hermione answered truthfully. "When we discussed it, I mainly ranted and raved while he listened. If I'm honest… I'm not used to the men around me having strong opinions on anything not related to Quidditch or the war. If Blaise said anything, I don't think I took him too seriously."

"Well, maybe, you need to take him more seriously. You will be married to this man for three years. At some stage you are either going to have to give up or jump in. You can't float in an in between place for the whole time. You need to choose one or the other. You are married."

"Legally! Legally, we are married. But if we had hooked up in a normal world, we'd still be in the casual dating stage."

"Hermione, I'm sorry that life has done this to you, to all of us. But you aren't in a normal world, you are in our world and you are married. You're married. I know it's hard, but you have to realise that this isn't just going to go away because you don't like it."

* * *

Blaise glanced at his watch as Dr Hammond made a few notes on the file in front of him. Hermione had just finished her session and now it was Blaise's turn. He had been seeing a Dr Franklin but they'd reassigned him Hermione's therapist.

Blaise cleared his throat slightly. He couldn't believe they'd stuck him with this guy. The blond looked only a few years older then Blaise and he didn't appreciate the way Hermione had smiled at Hammond as she was coming out of the office. It was far too… warm. She shouldn't be smiling at anyone that way.

Hammond looked up at Blaise's not so subtle interruption. "I'll only be a moment longer."

Blaise's jaw tensed and he fought the urge to storm out. Finally Hammond put the file aside and turned his attention to Blaise.

"Sorry, there's a lot to get through. The ministry is requiring everyone to do at least three months of therapy."

"What happens when we go back to school?"

"There will be someone assigned to Hogwarts permanently. Me by the looks of it. They've transferred most of the Hogwarts cases to me." Hammond frowned to himself a moment before shaking his head. "So, I've reviewed your file and I know a little bit about you through Hermione. Why don't you tell me how things have been going on your side? What do you think of the marriage one month in?"

Blaise sighed. It was the exactly same thing he'd had to talk about with Franklin. He was sick of dissecting his marriage, he just wanted them to leave him and Hermione be. But the man was clearly waiting for an answer.

"It's hard but good," was all Blaise said.

Hammond waited for Blaise to continue but he didn't.

"I understand that you and Hermione are attempting a traditional marriage. You're really trying. How do you think you're dealing with being married so young?"

"I don't think any of us are young at the moment. We've seen too much, we know too much, lost too much."

"Yes," Hammond said slowly, nodding slightly. "The war has made adults out of a lot of kids but just because you've been on the end of a nasty hex or maybe even thrown a few around yourself doesn't mean you're emotionally ready for a relationship of this variety."

"Well, it doesn't really matter either way, does it? The ministry's decided we all need to hook up and maybe pop out a few kids for the good of wizards in Britain. It doesn't matter if we're ready or not."

"Are you saying you're not ready?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all. I was speaking in a more general sense. I quite enjoy being married to Hermione. She ensures that we communicate and work hard on the areas of our relationship that are struggling. I make sure she takes the time to still be young. We don't really hang out with each others friends but we're working on it. The situation works well for us, but can everyone say the same? You say you've been assigned the Hogwarts cases, how many of your cases are struggling? How many are actually trying, and succeeding in a mature responsible way? Maybe the ministry should hold some seminars on marriage; tools to use and opening communications between couples. I'm sure when you stick two seventeen year olds together and tell them to play 'family', they're going to struggle. Especially if they don't come from a great home life or if they don't have the support of their families. Or what about the kids who lost parents in the war? The ministry has acted in a grossly irresponsible manner to think that this was the solution to any problems they may have had."

Hammond was speechless. He simply stared open mouthed at Blaise while he processed the kid's ideas. He studied Blaise a moment before searching through the piles of parchment on his desk for the flyer he was looking for.

"This," he said, holding out the paper for Blaise to take, "is a group of older wizards and witches who are protesting the marriage law for under 20's on the exact same grounds that you are talking about; emotionally immaturity and mental insecurities. These kids have been through too much and they're not ready for this. I think you would be a great asset to their cause. You speak so passionately on the subject."

Blaise eyed at the paper disdainfully, not reaching for it. "Why would I want to help them? _My_ marriage is fine."

* * *

_A/N2 I'm prempting questions about Blaise in this chapter. I didn't want him to come off as too reformed and happy and rainbows and kittens 'cause he's not really anything like that. So the point of this chapter was to show that he's still a bit of a snob and still arrogant and well... slytherin for lack of a more defining term. Hoped you enjoyed it._


	14. Chapter 14

Blaise contemplated his grandfather as he paced the room, waiting for Draco to arrive. The library had existed unchanged for hundreds of years until Blaise's grandfather had it renovated from a draughty stone room for studying and research to a warm and welcoming room filled with comfortable chairs and rich mahogany wall panelling. Blaise had spent many hours in this room, listening to the commanding voice of his grandfather as he explained the science of a perfectly brewed potion or the breeding qualities of a thoroughbred hippogriff. No subject was off limits and his grandfather seemed an expert in all of them. A good man whose brilliance was put aside over the love of his family.

It was Blaise's grandfather who had taught him loyalty to his family, not to a cause or a foreign master. Pride and self-worth were emphasised and praise was given out in vast amounts with the admiration of a grandparent for a grandchild blinding the elderly man. The old man was always sure to show Blaise the importance of putting forth a strong public face and sometimes love and being a child was forgotten.

Blaise didn't doubt that his grandfather loved him but he sometimes wished that the sessions spent studying Greek and Latin had instead been spent on watching a Quidditch game or playing chess for fun, not to study and learn strategy. But Blaise couldn't fault the man, he had done the best he could and done what he thought was best for his family.

"Sorry I'm late, I had an appointment to get new robes for school fitted but every damn person and their owl was in their getting fitted for wedding robes."

Draco sauntered over to the cabinet holding the liquor that had been there for as long as the room had existed. It was one of the few things Blaise's grandfather hadn't changed about the room.

Blaise waved away Draco's concerns, his mind now on the reason for Draco's visit. He'd been slightly shocked when it had turned out Draco had received Head Boy for the coming school year. His reputation, while not as bad as it may have once destined to be, still was not great. Blaise smiled to himself as he remembered Hermione's reaction to the news. She had ranted and raved for hours and for days afterwards could often be found muttering to herself about payoffs and bribery. While Blaise found the appointment odd, Hermione had thought it down right criminal and was convinced that there were nefarious goings on.

Blaise accepted the glass Draco handed him and perched on the edge of the giant antique desk sitting in one corned of the room.

"I was just wondering what your thoughts are on the Heads situation," Blaise said, trying to sound casual.

Draco shrugged. "It's good I suppose. I'll be able to have first years running around doing what I want. Granger will be a problem, but I can work around her."

"Granger?" Blaise queried, raising an arched brow.

Draco snorted into his drink.

"Right, sorry, the Honourable Mrs Zabini will be a problem. You know what she's like. I'm sure she has you picking up your own towels and serving your own breakfast in the morning.

Blaise turned to hide his smile. That's exactly what Hermione was doing along with a list as long as his arm of other things she refused to let his house elf do. He thanked the Gods every night that his mother had decided to vacate the main house until they returned to school. But still, he didn't like Draco talking about her like that.

"She's not so bad. She certainly makes up for any Muggle do-gooder tendencies in other areas."

Draco, who had been lazily perusing the books, perked up instantly.

"Really? Do tell," he requested, settling into one of the overstuffed leather armchairs scattered around the room. "Granger a wildcat in the bedroom?"

"My wife's sexual habits are none of your business. I was referring to her intelligence, her wit, her dry sense of humour and her ability to handle any social situation with grace. Last week Theo Nott completely ignored her and Hermione didn't even miss a beat, just asked someone else the exact same question, didn't draw attention to it like Pansy or Millicent would have."

"Hot," Draco said sarcastically. He turned his attention back to the books but didn't rise from his slumped position.

Blaise studied his friend as a casual observer would. He had grown his hair out and it fell in shaggy platinum blonde curls around his eyes and ears, a mark of the freedom he enjoyed with his father serving a ten year sentence in Azkaban. His eyes were grey, sliver almost, bored and cold as they assessed the books. Blaise knew the way they could flash like lightening when Draco was upset with something or the rare times they seemed to melt when he spoke passionately about something. His body was long and lean, toned from flying but not bulging like a Beaters or a Chasers could get from the added exertion of handling bat or ball. Blaise could see why women found him attractive which brought his thoughts full circle and the reason for their meeting.

"I don't want you to touch her."

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, his eyes swivelling to find Blaise glaring at him.

"Hermione, I don't want you to touch her. She's very important to me and I don't know what the sleeping arrangement will be back at school but generally the Heads share a common room, bathroom etc. Understand me when I say she is off limits, Draco. Lay one finger on her, in anger or lust, and you will regret it. We're like family, you and I, brothers and I know we've shared women before but this is different. She is my wife and I forbid you to make a play at her."

Draco studied Blaise, giving him the same long calculating once-over Blaise had given him moments before. Blaise's brow furrowed in confusion as he watched Draco's eyes flash in something… irritation? Anger? Frustration?

"What if she makes a play for me?" Draco asked eventually.

"She won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Hermione's not like that."

Draco took a sip of his drink and smirked up at Blaise. "Well she must be a little like that. I mean, there's a reason you're warning me away from her. You might like to spout the good qualities of your Gryffindor, loyalty to her husband being at the top of your list, but the way I understand things, she wasn't so loyal to Weasel when he left her and Potter high and dry. From what I hear, he asked her to come with him and she chose Potter. What does that say about her?"

Blaise didn't hesitate to answer. "That her loyalty to the greater good is stronger then the desires of her heart."

"Well what if screwing me will save the world? Think she'll stay up on that pedestal you've put her on then? You see, I think you're scared. You're not worried about me taking her from you; you're worried about her disappointing you and coming to me on her own."

The men glared at each other a moment before Draco sighed and stood. He approached Blaise til they were separated by only a couple of feet.

"I know what you see in her, brother; the promise of a family but more then that, the promise of that family with an amazing girl. But don't put all your faith in her. At the end of the day, she's a Gryffindor you're a Slytherin. Muggleborn and pureblood. Good and evil."

Blaise took a sudden step towards Draco and shoved him violently. "You're confusing me with yourself, _brother_. I never did anything evil. The only master I ever served was myself."

Draco lunged at Blaise, pressing him back into the desk. They wrestled off the desk and onto the floor, swinging brutally. They each managed to get off a few good hits; Draco's lip was bloody and swelling, Blaise's nose was out of shape, blood pouring down his crisp white shirt.

"Hey! Break it up! What on earth are you two doing?"

Hermione sprinted into the room, her wand drawn and with a silent spell the men were thrown to opposite ends of the room, a shield physically keeping them apart.

Blaise's hands bawled into fists. He'd enjoyed the power and physicality of laying into Draco's face. It was so much more satisfying then using a wand.

Draco pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his bloody lip. He winced and gingerly felt at his swelling jaw.

"Well?" Hermione demanded. "I asked why two grown men, two supposed friends, have come to using their fists like insolent three-year-olds. Draco, you are going to be the Head Boy in a couple of weeks. Of an entire school. You will have younger students coming to you for guidance and advice and what will you tell them? Wands at dawn? Or better yet just lay into each other?" She turned her attention to her husband who also had a cloth out and was attempting to stem the flow of blood from his nose. "And you, I thought you had more self control then this. What could have possibly provoked you into such a barbaric display?"

They looked at each other a moment, communicating silently their regret and embarrassment.

"It was nothing, a conversation that got out of hand. I apologize, Hermione, for fighting in your house. If you will excuse me, I'll take my leave." Draco was gone before Hermione had a chance to question him further on the fight and on his entirely bizarre civility towards her. It was almost… friendly.

She watched his retreating back a moment before turning back to Blaise, hands on her hips, demanding answers. "Well?"


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N Big hugs and thanks to . who wrote the last half of this when my brain stopped working. She's the best smut writer ever and wrote a very hot and smutty scene for me that I unfortunately had to cut out. I will post it as a seperate oneshot for any one interested in reading the rest of the smut. _

* * *

Draco closed the door quietly before letting his head fall silently against it. Behind the door, his mother slept restlessly, every now and then calling out her husband's name. She was struggling without her husband but at the same time freed from any threat of danger against her family. She was too animated during the day, her eyes too bright and her speech too fast. And then, at night, she would toss and turn for hours. Draco spent most of his nights camped out her door, listening to her cries and tears. He would wonder if he could have done more, done better. If he had acted differently, would his father still be alive? If he had played a more active role or, less likely, stood up against his father. Not once in his life had he ever seen his father be forced to listen to reason but still…

Draco sighed and with one last anguished cry from his mother he left her to her personal hell. He worried about his mother, feared for her health, both physically and mentally. She seemed slightly off by one or two degrees, nothing that anyone but immediate family would notice, but he noticed. His tongue gently probed his swollen lip as he made his was to his set of rooms in a different section of the manor. His lip was tender and his mouth still tasted of blood.

"Damn Blaise," Draco muttered to himself. "She's not even worth it."

But Draco knew the words were a lie before they were even out of him mouth. She was worth it. She was worth a few unskilled punches and a hell of a lot more. And he hated it. He hated how much he cared for the Mudblood. Hated her for it. Hated himself. He was ashamed yet at the same time her pull was inescapable. He couldn't seem to shake her no matter what he tried and he _had_ tried. He often felt like he was on a roller-coaster when it came to Hermione Granger. Ups and downs and loops and sharp turns. It was terrifying and he hated heights but the adrenaline rush was addictive. The emotions she incited in him were addictive.

"Why can't I get her out of my head?!" he cried to his empty room. His voice echoed a moment in the cavernous room before the night fell silent again.

"She's his wife!" he growled to himself but that didn't stop the filmstrip starting up in his mind. It was a familiar scene, a fantasy, pure and simple.

It started with something simple; dinner or reading together in the study, something homely and comfortable. Sweet smiles, easy conversation. Asking how his day was, him complementing the flower arrangement or something equally trivial that his father always complemented his mother on. But then the scene would shift and they would be in his bedroom, in his bed. Her skin soft and creamy, unblemished save for a few scattered freckles across her nose. A sweet, seductive smile on her face as she unbuttoned and rid him of his shirt, something few women had done. The next part shocked him the first few times but it had quickly become the most eagerly anticipated part of his fantasy. As he stripped her of her robes, her body was revealed, swollen with his child. And he would touch her reverently, feeling their child move beneath her creamy skin. And he could feel it, he could smell her, taste her, so vivid were the fantasies. It shamed that he often used his hand on himself. Gasping and panting, he would enter his wife in his eye's mind while he spilled his seed into his own palm.

It was easy to keep it at bay when he could fill his bed with women but with the marriage law deadline fast approaching, available women were becoming a rare commodity. And God forbid he associate with _Muggles_.

_But she was a Muggle,_ a cold voice in his head taunted. It, like the fantasy, was a regular visitor to Draco's tortured mind. It soundly strangely like his father.

_A filthy mudblood, Draco. Really, you couldn't find a more original way to act out? You must be so proud of yourself. The only time you could stand up to your father was after he was dead and all you could manage was to drool over her from afar. What a big man you've become. _

* * *

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked. Blaise's hands covered her eyes and he walked behind her, his firm body pressed against hers, leading them to their destination.

"If I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Yes, but if you told me, I would be reassured that you weren't leading me to my death."

Blaise chuckled but didn't remove his hands.

"I promise no death. It's a good surprise."

Hermione breathed deeply, trying to guess where they were. Blaise had Apparated them both here, his hands over her eyes before they left. She could smell the outdoors; freshly mown grass, trees, dirt, flowers. She could feel the wind on her face and she could hear children laughing in the distance. Suddenly her eyes were unguarded and she blinked rapidly as the bright light momentarily blinded her.

When her eyesight cleared she was greeted with the sight of an impressive castle, towering over them and casting half of the impressive grounds in shadow. They were standing in the middle of the drive leading up to the front doors. Sunlight glittered off a pond to the left of the stone building and further back Hermione caught a glimpse of the edge of what look to be acres of gardens.

"This entire estate belonged to my family many years ago. My great-great grandfather sold it after his second wife died in a fiend fyre accident. These gardens," he gestured to the veritable jungle of flora and fauna, "were her passion. She wasn't able to have children so she spent hours every day, tending to the plants. She said she wanted to leave something beautiful behind, something she had poured her blood, tears and love into."

"You speak as if you know her," Hermione murmured.

Blaise lead her through a section of roses, obviously intent of a particular destination. He didn't answer her question and, thinking he hadn't heard her, opened her mouth to repeat it. She stopped though, when Blaise sent her a mysterious smile.

"Maybe I do."

She studied him a moment before laughing. "Next you'll tell me she haunts the old garden shed and scares tourists away."

Blaise looked offended. "Never, she loves people visiting her gardens."

Hermione's smile faltered. "You're serious, her ghost is still here?" She looked over her shoulder to watch the Muggles she had seen around near the pond, but all she could see was plants. She shivered and Blaise pulled her close to him. They had come quite far and she suddenly became aware of the silence; they were alone. She turned back to ask Blaise where he was leading her and spotted their destination.

* * *

It was a hot house and it was just that, hot. It was a shocking change from the chilled air outside and within moments Hermione had her heavy jacket off and draped over one arm. The other arm remained looped with her husband's as they began to stroll through the almost artificial surroundings.

Everything was in full bloom and it was utterly breathtaking. The hot houses primary use was to provide the army of vases inside the castle with visually stunning arrangements year round and Hermione could see just how clearly the gardener tended these amazing blooms. The glass building would have to have been over a kilometre long, winding its way along the back part of the castle grounds in a place not many tourists thought to travel to.

The near silence was soothing and neither felt the need to fill it with words. Hermione would stop occasionally to admire a particularly pretty specimen and Blaise was only too happy to indulge her. The smell of damp earth and tantalizing plant life combined with the constant humidity was all too relaxing.

Thoughts of the woman who had nurtured these gardens like a child and who had died a tragic death were pushed from her mind. She would save such depressing thoughts for another time.

Blaise had taken his own jacket off and the woolen jumper he had thrown on underneath, revealing a pristine white shirt that he had failed to button up all the way. Hermione's eyes kept straying to the small triangle of flesh visible at the hollow of his neck. Of course he noticed her subtle glances and tried not to grin when he caught her blushing at whatever her thoughts had drifted to.

They continued to walk in silence, the atmosphere taking on a slightly charged feel as he slipped his hand down from her elbow to cup her slightly damp palm. He heard her sharp intake of breath and his grin grew wider. Hermione's virgin responses never failed to please him and to know that he would be the only one in existence to ever hear the noises she made as she discovered some new feeling was a heady rush.

They turned a slight bend and Hermione paused as she caught sight of the picnic blanket sheltered beneath a large birds nest fern. A basket sat waiting, and two glasses of champagne which were already full rested on a nearby ornamental rock.

"Oh Blaise, it's lovely," she sighed, tugging him forward to investigate further.

"It's nothing really," he murmured, her reaction a little more than he expected. "Just a couple of chicken and mayonnaise sandwiches and some of that chocolate cake you liked at dinner the other night."

Hermione looked at him and blushed, not having realized just how closely he had been paying attention to her. "That was very thoughtful of you Blaise, thank you," she said, reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek lightly before dropping down to sit on the blanket, patting the spot next to her as she explored what else had been packed into the basket.

Blaise watched on as his wife exclaimed at their bounty, producing freshly cut fruit, a selection of salads and even a small bowl of whipped cream to accompany the much desired cake. Using their jackets as cushions, they had soon devoured the hearty meal and were taking turns selecting the nicest pieces of fruit to dip into the left over cream.

"This is really nice," Hermione sighed, lying back so that her hair fanned out across the ground in a riot of messy curls and tangles. Blaise looked down at her and smiled, he had just been thinking the same thing. He watched her eyes as she took in the rolling clouds above for a few moments before looking around the dense foliage. His eyes lit upon a flower not too far from them and he stealthily raised his wand to cut it neatly and bring it over to them.

"For you," he said, holding out the purple-centred white bloom.

She sat up and her face blossomed as she accepted his offering. "This is from a phalaenopsis orchid, they have always been my mother's favourite," she explained, fingering the three delicate petals before gently tapping the beak like purple growth in the centre.

"Did your mother do a lot of gardening?" he asked conversationally, watching her fingers gently caress the flower.

"No," she laughed. "She had a rather black thumb when it came to anything that grows, but every year on their anniversary my father would buy her a bunch of orchid stems and they seemed to last forever in a vase."

"That sounds really romantic," he said, leaning forward to pluck the stem from her hand, placing it gently in the now empty basket.

"It was," she said quietly, lying back to stare at the clouds once again. Blaise joined her, resting his head on her jacket, so close she could feel his chest move up and down as he breathed. The heat from his arm seeped through her thin top and she felt herself shifting closer to him, finding a comfortable spot eventually with her head resting against his chest as they both looked up into the sky.

It was another few long minutes before she felt his fingers under her chin, tilting her head so that he could lean down and capture her lips with his own. She sighed into his mouth and let him gently explore before rolling over so they both had better access.

Hermione supported her weight on his chest as his arms encircled her waist, bringing them closer together. His tongue slipped neatly into her mouth and she groaned as he began to explore further. His fingers raised the hem of her top as he caressed the small patch of skin just before the waist band of her jeans causing her breath to come out as a shudder.

"Someone might see us," she whispered against his mouth, making a futile attempt to pull herself away. His arms wound tighter around her.

"No they won't, the doors are locked and we are completely hidden."

"You set this up!" she accused half heartedly, taking a moment to arch her back as his fingers crept higher along her bare skin.

"How else was I supposed to get you alone?" he teased, kissing his way from the base of her throat back up to her lips, engaging her once more.

"That's a lie, we are alone more than we are with other people," she scolded playfully, letting him roll her underneath him at the same time as unbuttoning her blouse.

"Yes, but soon enough we will be surrounded by so many students we won't have time to say hello let alone do this," he replied, finally getting her top undone and starting work on the clasp of her jeans as she squirmed beneath him, "I am just creating a lasting memory," he grunted, as she lifted her hips and together they wiggled the skin tight denim down her legs, throwing her shoes in different directions as they went. He paused a moment to hurriedly remove his own clothing and, finally, her white cotton underwear soon followed.

"How very thoughtful of you."

Hermione closed her eyes in pure bliss as he worked his way up her legs, pausing at the bend in her knee to dip his tongue in playfully. She moaned in pleasure as he reached his destination.

Her eyes fluttered open and her vision was filled with the greens of the plants, the rainbow of colours of the flowers and the clear blue of the sky through the glass roof. As she writhed beneath her husband, she spared only a moment to decide that marriage was turning out to be really quite good and to wonder if it would be like this with any man. Then he eased himself into her and she had no time for anything thing other then the beautiful man resting between her legs.

* * *

_Don't forget to check out the rest of the smut and G.V.S.L's profile if you liked what you saw here._

_*edited* geeze I know you're all eager to read Amy's smut but you could review here before moving over to it. _


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N Some of you asked where you can find more smut from **Grande. Vanilla. Skim. Latte** (no spaces, it just wouldn't show up as all one word) __if you search her author name she should come up. Also you can go to my profile and she's under my favourite authors and she's also one of the fantatic mods at the_ Twin Exchange_ forum, the link of which can also be found on my profile. _

* * *

Hermione looked around the cosy, comfortably furnished room, her eyes lingering on the well stocked bookshelves, and nearly burst with utter contentment. She'd done it. She was Head Girl. It had taken a year off because of war, a Marriage Law and more hours studying then sleeping but she was here. Going to stand by the crackling fireplace, she recalled the sense of pride she felt in being announced Head Girl during the feast and decided that every sacrifice, from a bit of missing sleep to fighting for her world, had been worth it.

Blaise and Draco shoved through the door, laughing raucously, and ruining her moment. She pursed her lips a moment before fixing her mouth in a smile and turning to her husband and his friend.

"Drink?" Draco was offering, pulling a flask from inside his robes.

Blaise hesitated, looking from Draco to Hermione. Hermione tried not to play the role of Head Girl, here in what was to be their home, but she felt her lips puckering and before she could stop it her mouth was set in a disapproving purse.

Twenty minutes later, when she was lying in bed alone, she wondered if she might have had some company if she hadn't openly shown her displeasure, forcing Blaise's hand. Time would tell, she supposed, what he would act like now that he was back amongst the constant company of friends. Slytherin friends. And how she would act.

They'd had only a few flare ups but the ones that errupted had been mostly about their friends. Blaise didn't like how comfortable she and the boys were together and their casual touches – arms, legs, a hug – grated on his nerves. After the cold shoulder from Hermione and the threat of a night alone in a cold bed, he admitted that it was jealously, that he didn't actually think there was anything going on.

Hermione had been slightly more stubborn in giving in graciously when Blaise had persisted with his weekly 'boys' night' were he insisted nothing sinister took place. Some drinks, a few games of pool and maybe a couple rounds of poker. She wouldn't have minded had he not come home from the first one, reeking of smoke and alcohol and a strange perfume and then tried to seduce her with sloppy kisses and drunken groping. The next week when he came home, though he still reeked of smoke and alcohol, it wasn't on his breath and there was no perfume, and his caress had been precise and loving.

Hermione huffed and bashed at her pillow, trying to find a comfortable place for her head. The boys' laughter drifted up to her from the open door. She checked her watch; after midnight. She bit down on her bottom lip, debating. If she didn't set a precedent on this first night, they would run all over her for the rest of the year. She hesitated only a moment before jumping out of bed, throwing on her bed robe, not bothering to tie it and storming down the stairs.

Draco was the first to see her and his eyes widened in surprise before dropping his eyes to her legs that were exposed by the short dressing gown she wore under her robe. It wasn't fair, Draco thought to himself. A woman that short shouldn't appear to have legs that long. His gaze travelled up her legs, over her body, to her not so happy face.

"It's nearly one o'clock," she informed them.

"Hermione," Blaise started, rising and turning towards his wife, arms open. She held up her hand to him to stop further speech and turned to his friend.

"You are Head Boy, Draco. You shouldn't be drinking, full stop, let alone getting _drunk_. And you, Blaise, shouldn't be encouraging him. I'm ashamed of you both and deeply disappointed. It's the first night back!"

Blaise had the good grace to look embarrassed but Draco merely smirked at her and took another drink. With her attention diverted to Draco, Blaise sneaked another sip of his drink. Hermione closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She tried to imagine what she would do if this was Harry and Ron.

Blaise should have recognised by now, how dangerous Hermione could be when her eyes flashed like that. But he was either too drunk or had underestimated his wife's temper because he cried out in surprise when she snatched the glass out of his hand and threw it into the fireplace.

It exploded, sending glass throughout the room which, thankfully, missed all of them. Draco's mouth dropped open and his body tightened further with desire. He added 'passionate' and 'beautiful when angry' to his list of things about Hermione that turned him on. He swallowed loudly and placed his drink down on the table.

"Go to bed," she said harshly before turning to stare Blaise down until he started for the stairs.

"See you tomorrow, Malfoy," Blaise called over his shoulder.

Hermione huffed out a breath before turning back to say goodnight to Draco. She took a startled step back when she found him, not on the chair, but standing not a foot away from her.

His eyes blazed and Hermione clutched her robe together over her chest. "Can I help you?" she asked, barely hiding the tremor in her voice.

Draco studied her intently for a moment, his jaw clenched and his breathing shallow. Hermione blushed, though she couldn't tell you why. Then Draco laughed once, the sound hollow, before stepping back and sitting down in front of the fire. He picked up his glass and downed it in one. "No, no one can help me."

* * *

Hermione closed the door behind her and allowed her eyes to linger on Blaise's toned back before ridding herself of her robe and climbing back into bed. She watched as Blaise pottered about the room, taking off his watch and placing it on his dressing table, flicking through the wardrobe, staring out the window.

"You never told me if you decided to drop Charms," Hermione said, speaking to his back. He didn't say anything but Hermione noticed his muscles clenching slightly before relaxing again. "Are you not feeling well? Maybe you shouldn't have had so much to drink."

He spun quickly and fixed her with a ferocious stare.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What was what?" she asked, nonplussed.

"That crap you just pulled!" Blaise practically shouted. "You are my wife, Hermione, not my damn mother."

"It's the eve of the start of term, you both should have been in bed," Hermione answered calmly. She refused to look at him and instead smoothed the duvet over her thighs. "Draco and I aren't the only ones the younger students will look up to, Blaise. As my husband and Draco's friend, you are expected to set just as good example as we are."

Blaise took a deep breath to try and calm his temper. "When we are amongst the student population, of course I will conduct myself with all the propriety and acceptable behaviour that is expected of a seventh year, of your husband and most importantly what I've come to expect of myself."

He took a step forward and Hermione began to respond before Blaise cut her off.

"Even tonight when you storm down there like you are in control of me, insult me in front of my friend, in your actions and your words, I held my tongue. You are the one that needs a lecture on setting an example, not me. And if you ever, ever, humiliate me like that again don't bother waiting for me in our bed."

He snatched up a pillow and a spare blanket off the bed. "If you will excuse me I don't exactly feel up to being in your company at the moment.

Hermione watched, dumbfounded as her husband slammed out of the room. She heard his bare feet slapping on the stone steps as he headed back down to the common room. She was so shocked she just stared at the door for a good five minutes before she stumbled after him.

Neither noticed the blond man sitting in a dark corner of the common room, listening and watching the scene unfold before him.

"Come back to bed," Hermione said, standing over Blaise who had setup his bed on the long couch.

He ignored her and stared stubbornly at the ceiling.

Hermione laughed and covered her eyes with her hand.

"You think this is funny?" Blaise demanded. "You made a fool of me tonight."

"No, I don't think this is funny. I think this is very sad. Last week you made love to me amongst exotic plants and this week, we're back at school only a couple of hours and already you are sleeping on the couch." She couldn't help it, she laughed again.

Blaise considered her words and pressed his lips together to keep his chuckle in.

"And it's Draco Malfoy's fault, no less. I swear he takes delight in making my life hell."

She giggled and Blaise delighted in the sound, feeling his anger wash away. He joined in her laughter and pulled her down onto his lap. They chuckled together, the tension between the gone. When their laughter had died down Blaise placed a soft kiss on each of his wife's cheeks and then, finally, one on her lips.

"I'm a man, Hermione. I may be a young man but I am a man none the less. I won't let you scold me like a naughty boy, caught with his finger in the pie."

Hermione sighed, burying her face against his neck. He could feel her warm breaths against his shoulder and when she answered, her lips tickled as they brushed against his skin.

"I know; I'm sorry. Forgive me?" She lifted her head to look him in the eye.

Blaise bestowed another gentle, chaste kiss to lips. "I'm starting to think I'd forgive you anything. Come on, let's go to bed."

Draco sneered at the couple from his position in the corner as they made their way back up to their room, arms wrapped around each other. He could pretend the display had sickened him but there was no denying the sharp stab of jealousy and hurt that lanced through him like a knife. He poured another drink.

Tomorrow, he decided. The game begins tomorrow.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N Sorry for the a) short chapter and b) long wait for an update. Christmast holidays, uninspired blah blah blah. Sorry, hopefully next chapter will be better. _

* * *

The next morning Draco sat next to Blaise, both boys watching Hermione over at the Gryffindor. She was laughing and chatting with her friends, completely at ease. She had no clue to the tension she was causing behind her at the Slytherin table between her husband and the Head Boy.

"Would you stop drooling in your porridge over my wife?" Blaise ground out. The first year on the other side of Blaise glanced up at him, his eyebrows meeting his hairline.

"I'm not, I swear!" the small boy promised.

Blaise allowed him an amused chuckle. "Not you."

The boy gulped and made a big show of lowering his gaze to his bacon.

Blaise shook his head and glanced at Draco. He was still staring across at Hermione.

"Whatever you are planning, Draco, it's not going to work." Blaise threw his napkin down, not bothering to wait for Draco to respond and walked over to the Gryffindor table. Some of the younger students shot him startled looks but most knew that Blaise had married Hermione and just continued on with their breakfast. Hermione was laughing at something Potter had said when Blaise cleared his throat.

She turned around and seeing that it was him broke into a wide smile. They had only parted half an hour before but apparently she had missed him too.

"Hey," she said. "Miss me already?"

"I always miss you. Actually, I was wondering if I could steal you away for a minute."

She smiled again and rose from the table, excusing herself from her friends. Blaise led her just outside the doors and planted a quick kiss on her lips. She tasted like pumpkin juice.

"Draco's up to something, I can tell."

Hermione laughed, "You sound like Harry."

Blaise frowned and pulled Hermione in close so that a student could step around her.

"There's something that you don't know and I'm torn in my loyalties whether or not to tell you."

Hermione studied his face for a moment; his brow was creased and she could tell he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. He did that when he couldn't decide something important, she had noticed over the past couple of months.

"Will this knowledge hurt me?" Hermione queried. He shook his head. "Am I in danger?"

"Not exactly danger," Blaise said evasively.

"What would happen if you told me this?"

"A friend will be angry, hurt, embarrassed."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Well then, don't tell me. The benefits don't seem to outweigh the downside and I'm sure whatever it is, you've got it under control." She stood up on tiptoe, slipping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. "I trust you."

Their lips were about to meet when someone cleared their throat.

Draco stood in the doorway, an odd look on his face. "They're about to hand out the timetables."

Hermione breezed past him, still unnerved from their encounter the night before.

_"Can I help you?" she asked, barely hiding the tremor in her voice._

_Draco studied her intently for a moment, his jaw clenched and his breathing shallow. Hermione blushed, though she couldn't tell you why. Then Draco laughed once, the sound hollow, before stepping back and sitting down in front of the fire. He picked up his glass and downed it in one. "No, no one can help me."_

Blaise's warnings from only moments before echoed in her ears as she took her seat next to Ron.

"Do you have to yell, Ron?" Hermione asked as Ron shouted something to Luna who was sitting over at the Ravenclaw table. "Especially about your lost underwear?"

Ron was saved from further comment by the arrival of their timetables.

"Potions first," Harry groaned. "Brilliant."

Hermione allowed herself spitefully exultation at Harry's dread of potions. It was silly and petty but the memories of Harry's performance in Potions in sixth year still irked her. She checked over her schedule a few more times, memorising it, before collecting her things and leading the reluctant boys down to the dungeons. The seventh year class was made up of a mixture of people from their age and the year below them who had managed to learn enough during the horrid year at war to move on to their seventh year studies.

Professor Slughorn already stood at the front of the class grinning jovially as the class filed in and headed towards their seats.

"No, no, no!" he cried, grinning. "Arranged seating this year, ladies and gentlemen. New school policy." Hermione, Harry and Ron exchanged wary looks as Slughorn read from his list and students broke off from the group converged in the middle of the room. Hermione sensed a pattern as more and more Gryffindors were paired off with Slytherins, usually the older students with the younger. It came as a bit of a surprise then when she was grouped with not a younger Slytherin, but Malfoy. Harry and Ron tried to smile reassuringly at her but they more grimaced then smiled.

"Professor McGonagall thought you two could use some extra time together, to work as a team if you are going to properly represent the students as Heads," Slughorn explained.

Hermione smiled tightly and took her seat next to Malfoy. He was oddly silent as he pulled out his equipment and Hermione braced herself for his first snide remark. But none came. They were half way through their potion, ahead of most of the class by at least three steps, when Hermione could take the silence no more.

"Nothing to say?" she demanded.

Draco started and straightened up from his potions book he had been leaning over.

"I've said plenty."

"'Pass the mandrake root' doesn't count. You know what I mean. No insults? No criticism? No teasing or abuse?"

"Abuse?" Draco cocked one blonde eyebrow. "Isn't _abuse_ a little harsh? You always gave as good as you got, Gra- Zabini."

"No, no!" Hermione defended. "I never sought you out, I defended myself. You were always wilfully spiteful and now, all of a sudden, we're best friends."

Draco snorted indelicately. "We're not friends, Hermione. But you are Blaise's wife and he _is_ my friend." Draco opened his mouth again as if he wanted to say more but shut it quickly before licking his bottom lip and glancing away.

"What?" Hermione demanded. "There's something else, just say it."

Draco fought back the urge to smirk and slowly added the next ingredients into their cauldron. She was playing right into his hands.

"I – no, it's not my place."

"Just spit it out, Malfoy," Hermione ground out, her frustration rising.

"I heard you guys last night, fighting."

Hermione blushed, turning her already flushed face bright crimson. She'd never even thought that Draco might be able to hear them. Why would she? The walls were made of thick stone and the doors of solid wood. She'd never been able to hear the other dorms in the Gryffindor tower.

Draco didn't wait for her to respond and after he finished his little diatribe, she couldn't respond even if she wanted to.

"Blaise was being a prat," Draco stated, nearly knocking Hermione off her stool in complete shock. "If I had a wife, even you," he added for effect, "I would treat her like a queen. I would never yell at her. Especially if she showed such fire, such passion." He inched closer and Hermione found herself captured by his startling grey eyes and the low huskiness of his voice. "If my wife cared enough about me to yell at me, regardless of who was around, I wouldn't yell back. I would take her, kiss her senseless and then show just how much I appreciated her. Her lips, her throat, her chest, each beautiful breast, each rosy nip-"

"How are we doing over here?" Slughorn boomed, approaching their table.

Hermione turned wide eyes on the professor and squeaked out, "Fine, sir."

Draco finally allowed himself a smirk behind Hermione's back before checking then next step and stirring the potion bubbling away.

Slughorn moved on to the next table and Draco leaned over Hermione's shoulder, his chest against her back, his mouth by her ear.

"If you were my wife, Hermione, I'd satisfy you in ways Blaise can't even think of."

Hermione pushed away from the table, knocking the laughing Draco back onto his stool. His face was lit up in amusement as Hermione scowled at him, heading towards the supply cupboard. When she returned, Draco assumed his silent, polite demeanour once again, leaving Hermione to wonder just what he was about.


	18. Chapter 18

_This is a mammoth chapter, for me anyway. I wanted to stop but I just kept writing. Thanks to Amy who helped me sort through how Blaise and Hermione were feeling. _

* * *

Though she sought him out, Hermione didn't get a chance to talk to Blaise until much later that night when he joined her on patrol as part of her Head Girl duties. Draco had winked at her and set off in the opposite direction before Blaise had found her.

"You're right," she said, accepting a kiss from Blaise on the cheek. "Draco is up to something."

Blaise euphoria at seeing his wife after a long and stressful day vanished immediately. "What did he do?" he demanded.

Hermione stalled, making a show of checking in empty classrooms. She might not have said anything about Draco's 'performance' in Potions if it hadn't have been for the wink not five minutes before. Draco was just being Draco, he'd obviously found a new way to torture her. And if she would admit it, a more affective way. A harsh name and it was forgotten before the end of class, his suggestive words though, and he'd been floating in the back of her mind all day, every now and again pushing to the front to tease her with his memory.

"He didn't do anything, per se," she said after a time, Blaise patiently waiting for her response.

"But he said something?" Blaise guessed. Hermione just nodded. Blaise took a breath and sighed loudly. Mixed emotions battled within him. He wanted to punch Draco, he wanted to fight back, he wanted to use his fist but he wanted to beat Draco at his own game, too. Away from school it had been easy to ignore the not so gentlemanly tendencies in him, but here, amongst his fellow Slytherins, playing against Draco on the level he had forced him to stoop to sounded pretty good.

Hermione was the deciding factor and he hadn't quite decided on her yet. He wanted to make their marriage work, wanted to be with her for a long time, even have children with her, hopefully grow to love her one day, but there was something holding him back. Some fear or insecurity Draco had first instilled in him the night they fought when he questioned Hermione's loyalties.

"He's just found a new way to bully me," Hermione said quickly, eager for Blaise to confirm her theory. He looked at her, brows creased and biting on the inside of his cheek. Her heart sank.

"No, no! Do not tell me Draco Malfoy has some weird, twisted crush on me!" Hermione shrieked. She turned and stalked away before turning again and retracing her steps back to her husband. "This is your fault. I'm sure this is sprung from some weird Slytherin competitiveness you two must have."

"No."

"No?"

"No." Blaise entwined his fingers in hers and led her back towards their rooms. Patrol was done for the night; it was too soon in the year for trysts. "As far as I can gather, it's been going on for a while. Quite a while."

"What? Since before the wedding?"

Blaise barked a laugh and brought his and Hermione's hands up to lay a kiss on her knuckles. He loved how innocent she could be sometimes. Whoa. Loved? No, he liked. He liked Hermione, a lot, but he wasn't ready to love her yet. Was he? A whole new wave of thoughts and emotions came crashing down on Blaise. This thing with Draco had to be sorted before they could truly commit to each other. That he was sure of.

"Blaise?" Hermione prodded, pulling Blaise away from his thoughts on love.

"I think it started a few years ago."

Hermione laughed, the sound slightly hysterical. "Don't be ridiculous. He hates me. He teased me mercilessly."

"No, he was confused and angry and ashamed and he lashed out at the person he thought was to blame; you."

Hermione's face turned sombre, her expression grave, her mouth pulled down in a frown. She thought back over her time at Hogwarts, every harsh word, every hex thrown, every sneer and smirk. Then she laughed. "I think you're confused, Blaise. Draco Malfoy tortured me for one reason only, his father was a bigoted fool who taught his son the same flawed beliefs and Draco thought he had the right to bully me. There was no other reason, no greater feelings, no unrequited Romeo and Juliet love. Okay?" She was trying for casual but her 'okay' came out as a threat, a warning.

Blaise held his free hand up in surrender. "Okay."

Hermione chatted all the way back to their room, through the blissfully empty common room and while she was putting on her pyjamas after her shower. Blaise simply shook his head at her antics, knowing that sooner or later the full truth would dawn on his in-denial wife and then the game would really get interesting. Of course he didn't want his wife caught up in any rivalry between himself and Draco, but he was a Slytherin after all and if Draco wanted to fight, Blaise would use all the tools he had access to.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione was up and showered before Blaise had even woken. He didn't know if she was trying to avoid him or their roommate but he chuckled to himself and enjoyed a lazy shower. He had a free first period and wanted to find Draco to inform him the rules had changed. He knew Draco, knew that he cared for Hermione and knew that his want to see Blaise bested would override the initial concerns for her. It wouldn't be until too late that Draco would discover just what he was gambling with. Blaise wasn't stupid; he knew the appeal his friend could have when he wanted to turn on the charm. He wanted to believe that Hermione wouldn't fall for it, but he knew he would have a better chance at keeping her if he was upfront with her. Well, sort of.

Blaise stopped his thoughts in their tracks. Too much Slytherin was showing through. Hermione didn't tell him what Draco said but he could just guess. It had been designed to attack the couple on two fronts; upset Hermione and try to get a rise out of Blaise. And it had worked. His first instinct had been to fight back, not to protect. And of course protecting Hermione should always be his first instinct. Not that she couldn't protect herself.

He stepped out of the steamy shower, starting when he came face to face with the subject of his thoughts. "Merlin, Hermione, you scared me half to death."

She smiled a tight quick smile and launched into her speech which she had obviously spent the morning planning. "You are wrong. I just passed Draco on the stairs and I'm sorry, you are wrong. There was no indication that he felt anything for me besides a vague dislike. I don't know what he's told you, or what you think you have seen, but there is no way Draco likes me as a person let alone as a lover or God forbid, loves me. And on the other side of this twisted little coin, if you are in fact telling the truth, what on earth is he thinking? Does he actually think that I might like him? That by acting like a... a... a royal _prat_ he would stop my silly little mudblood heart from falling for him? He's completely deluded! I would sooner marry a toad!"

"Hermione, just forget about it. It doesn't matter. Draco likes you, who cares? He's not going to do anything about it. Just ignore him and he'll get over it. Once he sees how good we are together, he'll leave you alone." Blaise smiled at her and reached for her hand. She smacked his away and backed up a step. Whatever was going to happen, he wanted Hermione out of the line of fire. If he could convince her to drop it, he could try and sort this mess out on his own.

"Do you even care that your friend is coveting your wife?"

"Of course I care! But I can deal with Draco, you don't need to get so upset over it. Let me handle it, I am your husband."

"Don't worry my pretty little head over it, you mean? Let the men handle it?"

Blaise watched her, his brows furrowed. "What does it matter? Why are you getting so worked up?"

"What?" Hermione demanded. She had been pacing the bathroom and now stopped in front of a half naked Blaise, his towel wrapped around his waist.

"You said you would sooner rather marry a toad, that he's deluded, but it shouldn't matter, Hermione. He shouldn't be able to come between us because you are married to me."

Hermione stared at him, incredulous.

"You are getting angry at me?" She laughed bitterly, once. "He said to, he actually said to me, that he would appreciate my throat and my breasts and my body! That he would pleasure me in ways you couldn't. And you are angry at me? Don't come to me, acting as if you have a single clue as to how my life has been when it comes to Draco Malfoy over the past seven years. He's always been there, teasing and bullying, something hurtful to say-"

He knew then, knew she wouldn't be able to just let this go. Maybe the idea secretly appealed to her. "Well then maybe you should have married him if he's been such an ever present entity in your life."

"Yeah, maybe I should have!" Hermione screamed at him and slammed out of the bathroom.

She stomped down the stairs, her hands balled into fists at her side, her nails cutting into her palm. She couldn't remember the last time she had ever been that angry. She didn't think she'd ever been this angry at Harry, maybe Ron. She'd certainly never been this angry with Blaise. She felt the rage boiling up in her, sitting like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach til she just had to scream and hit something. Unfortunately, what she chose to hit was the stone wall at the bottom of the staircase. On the plus side, her rage was instantly forgotten, on the down side, she thought she had broken her hand.

"Shoot! Shoot, shoot, shoot!" Hermione cried, clutching her maybe broken hand.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked from one of the armchairs. She hadn't seen him before she attacked the wall and seeing him now just made it all too much for her. She burst into tears and slumped against the wall. Draco was at her side in a moment, steering her towards the door.

"I'll take you to the hospital wing," he said.

Hermione simply nodded, too distraught to care and too distracted to realise that Draco was leading her through crowded hallways to the hospital wing, tears streaming down her face, her hand red and swelling.

When they got to the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey tutteted at the swollen hand, proclaiming it broken, and went to retrieve some Skele-grow potion. Hermione took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Draco gently took hold of Hermione's elbow and she jumped a foot in the air.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, having forgotten he was there. He'd loitered by the doorway as Hermione had been examined.

"I was just going to help you to one of the beds," he explained, removing his hand and taking a step back. "You'll probably be here for the rest of the morning at least. Knowing her," he nodded towards where Madame Pomfrey had disappeared, "she'll try to keep you in the rest of the day and all the night."

"Yes, she will," Hermione gave him a watery smile and allowed him to escort her to one of the empty hospital beds. Draco helped her slide up onto the bed.

They sat for a moment, listening to the usually organised Madame Pomfrey crash about in her storage room.

Draco looked out the window while Hermione looked at Draco.

"He told you, didn't he?" he asked without looking at Hermione.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Hermione said primly, turning her head to study the empty ward. "But if he had told me anything, I think the two of you are being juvenile and cruel to try and pull a heartless prank like this. It's a marriage you are playing with, Draco."

He perched on the edge of her bed, careful to avoid her broken hand.

"It's a Marriage Law, Hermione. Big difference. Do you love him?"

Hermione turned to stare at him. His silver eyes were wide and earnest, his expression open and vulnerable. She had never seen him willingly look so defenceless. Hermione bit her lip, confused. Was this just another ploy? Another angle of attack? Even if it wasn't, a few heartfelt words didn't make up for years of hell.

"That's none of your business. Stay away from me, stay away from my marriage. If Blaise wants to be your friend, that's his own stupid mistake, but enough of these games, Draco. We're adults now, let's start behaving like it."

"Hermione, I'm sorry. It's just hard, my heart tells me one thing and my mind tells me another."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "Your heart Draco? I'm surprised you have one."

Draco flinched and his face transformed. His usual haughty exterior replacing the vulnerability. He rose gracefully and turned to leave.

"I won't tell Blaise about this. I'll pretend I never heard any of it and you can go back to hating me," Hermione paused for a moment, "Malfoy," she added.

Draco didn't turn but he did pause. "I never hated you, Hermione. I hated myself, I hated my father but never you. I was confused, I was stupid. You might not believe it, but I am sorry."

Hermione resisted the urge to call him back. She hated her trusting nature in that moment, her need to see the good in people. She bit down on her lip, forcibly keeping her mouth closed and her forgiveness in. It was like a bad dream, married to a Slytherin, Draco Malfoy in love with her, her whole life turner upside down. If she forgave him and Draco fell at her feet in gratitude she might just loose the tenuous hold she had on her sanity. So she said nothing and Draco left, leaving her to her churning emotions and confused mind.

* * *

Draco could have kicked himself. He felt like such an idiot. He felt like a fool, like a … a… a _Hufflepuff._

"Might as well told her I loved her and asked her to run away with me," he sneered to himself.

"Did she like your little performance?" Blaise asked him. He was leaning against the wall opposite the doors, a hard look on his face. "'_My heart tells me one thing, my mind tells me another,_'" Blaise mocked. He held out his hand and Draco saw one of those damn ear things the Weasley twins sell.

"Fuck you, Blaise," Draco growled.

Blaise sneered at him, and let the ruthless Slytherin in him take over. "No, I'd much rather fuck my wife."

He pushed passed Draco and sauntered into the hospital wing. Draco paused only a moment before charging after him. He called his name, waiting til Blaise turned around before he landed the first punch.

"Stop it!" yelled Hermione as the men wrestled, landing on a bed before toppling off the other side. "Enough of this!"

The two men flew apart and Madame Pomfrey stood there, wand in one hand, Skele-grow in the other. "Out, the both of you. Report back here after dinner for detention. Mr Malfoy you may leave first, Mr Zabini you may have a word with your wife, if she permits it, and then you too must leave. Now!" she roared when the men remained frozen, Blaise on the floor by Hermione's bed, Draco in an armchair by the door. The sprang to life, Blaise picking himself up and Dracom storming out.

Madam Pomfrey measured out a dose of the potion, waiting until Hermione had swallowed it all and then retreated to her office, giving Blaise a two minute warning.

Hermione glared at him. "How did we get here so quickly? I'm reading to pack my trunk and go stay in the Gryffindor Tower. Was that your way of handling things?" Hermione shook her head, wincing at her knuckle bones began to knit back together.

"I don't know what to tell you," Blaise said honestly.

"What is it about this situation that gets to you? Do you have a secret burning hatred for Draco? Or a desire to sabotage our marriage? I'm coming up blank here, Blaise. You need to talk to me."

"I don't trust you," Blaise said and hated that it was true. "Being back here at school, seeing you with Draco, knowing that he wants you and knowing that you don't love me, that you don't actually want to be married to me if you had the choice, I don't. I don't trust you."

Hermione nodded and sighed wearily. Her shoulders dropped and she looked older then her nineteen years. "I don't know what you want me to do, Blaise. This was never going to be easy but it sounds like over the last few days you've just given up. I have no control over Draco, or you, I can't make our problems disappear. I can only ask that you think of everything you know about me. The time we've been together and what you knew of me before that. I'm not asking you to love me, just to work with me, not against me. I can't hold us together by myself."

"You shouldn't have to," Blaise whispered. He was ashamed of himself. Not just his actions but his thoughts and his plans. He'd listened to their conversation and even as he heard Hermione refuse Draco, his insecurities came into play and he thought it all an act. Draco always seemed to get what he wanted and what he didn't want but had anyway Blaise always seemed to desire. Logic told him that Hermione wouldn't stray but he couldn't make himself believe it. He needed time to think it all through. Time away from Draco and time away from Hermione.

"I think I'll go home," Blaise said, raising his head to look at Hermione.

She nodded but said, "What about school?"

Blaise shrugged. "I don't need it. I was just here for you."

"And now there is nothing left to keep you here?"

Blaise couldn't ignore the tremble in her voice or her quivering lower lip.

"Don't think that. If you ask me to stay, I'll stay, but I think you know that I need to go."

Hermione nodded again. "I want this to work. I don't want Draco to come between us. When you get back we'll see the councillor."

Blaise agreed and with a kiss to her forehead, left the hospital ward to go pack his trunk. He stopped by the headmistress's office and was gone before lunch.


	19. Chapter 19

"And what do you think you are doing home?"

Blaise looked up from the letter he was penning to Hermione to see his grandmother glaring at him from the doorway.

"Not now, Grandma," Blaise said wearily. Away from school - away from Draco - his mind was returning back to a saner place and now he was debating whether or not he could, in all good conscious, ask Hermione to quit school with him. He couldn't. He knew he couldn't but he also knew he couldn't be there and live in such close quarters with Draco without losing his mind. There was something about the blonde-haired man that just set Blaise off. It was like a switch was flicked and he became a different person. When they were competing, anyway. Usually they got on pretty well, very well in fact, but when Draco challenged him, some instinct in him just reacted and he acted and spoke without thinking.

"I thought you were going to try and make this work. What happened?" His grandmother had entered the room and was now lowering herself into one of the large armchairs by the fireplace.

"Nothing I can't handle," Blaise answered, still concentrating on the blank page before him.

"Well, obviously you can't handle it or else you would be at school with your wife, not sulking with your grandmother."

"I _was _sulking alone," Blaise hinted but the old witch remained stubbornly in the room.

Blaise chewed on the end of his quill, trying to ignore his grandmother, hoping she would get the hint and go away. It wasn't that he didn't love his grandmother, but right now he needed to concentrate. It was stupid of him to leave Hermione at the school with Draco but his pride kept him where he was – far away from Hermione.

Maybe he shouldn't be writing a letter to Hermione, maybe he should be writing a threateningly letter to Draco, warning him away. No doubt the other man would see Blaise's withdrawing as victory, but that's not how Blaise saw it. If he had stayed, _then_ Draco would have won, he was sure of it.

Elizabeth Zabini watched her grandson for a moment longer, trying to read the expression on his face and, in turn, his emotions. But Blaise had always been too much like his mother and refused to show the outside world what he was feeling. He'd keep it locked up, clutching every last feeling to his chest, refusing to share it with anyone. The result was a very calm and collected person who retreated into himself when times got rough.

Lizzy sighed and eased herself to her feet.

"She doesn't love you yet, Blaise. And yes, I do mean yet. There is something between you two, but stay away too long and someone just might come along and steal her away."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Blaise muttered as his grandmother left the room in a flurry of robes and shawls she draped herself in.

* * *

Hermione breezed into the Great Hall, determined to show a brave face and act as if her husband's desertion hadn't hurt her dearly. She took her seat next to Ron and smiled at everyone's worried faces.

"I'm not dying, you know. Blaise has just gone home for a little while, it's not the end of the world."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and returned to the plates. Ginny frowned but with a nudge from Harry, also continued her meal. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and dished out some eggs for herself.

The news the Blaise had left Hermione spread like wildfire during lunch the day before and every theory and speculation from unwanted pregnancy to infidelity had been swapped over steak and kidney pie and treacle tart. Her and Draco's rush to the hospital ward hadn't helped rumours and a betting pool had been established about how long it would be until Hermione and Draco started an illicit affair.

It was common knowledge that the Ministry had not matched up the Malfoy heir and more then one underage girl had tried to lure him into an empty classroom in an attempt to win him. Apart from the occasional kiss from the more attractive of them, Draco had refused them, slipping out of the rooms unseen.

Hermione watched over Harry's shoulder as the man in question took a seat at the Slytherin table and glanced over at her. Their eyes met before Hermione quickly looked away. The exchange was noted and by lunch the odds of a hook-up before the end of the week had increased greatly.

That night at dinner, Hermione ignored the other students, eating her dinner quickly before retreating to the library. She sympathised with Harry greatly. It was not easy moving around a school with everyone staring at you. Draco shot her concerned looks whenever she came into his eyesight and with still no letter from Blaise like she was expecting, Hermione turned to the things that always brought her comfort; research and reporting.

She began with her homework assignments, quickly moving through them, only struggling with her advanced Ancient Runes translations in one spot. After a year trying to decipher Dumbledore's hidden messages Ancient Runes was a breeze. Homework out of the way, Hermione took out her neglected folder on S.P.E.W and began on story she had been avoiding for months.

_Dobby was a free elf,_ she began. The library was silent, practically empty so soon in the school year and the sound of her quill scratching against the parchment seemed overly loud, creating an odd reaction to her already frayed emotions. Ignoring all her current problems and woes, Hermione transported herself back over the years, telling Dobby's story from her point of view, adding in Kreachers tale and finishing with a swell of emotion and a tide of tears with the house elves contribution during the Battle of Hogwarts.

"He'll be back," Draco said from the other side of the table. She had been aware of his appearance for a while but had ignored it, determinedly telling the elves' story.

"How can he come back?" Hermione sobbed. "He's dead."

Draco's brows furrowed and he glanced over what she had been writing. 'Dobby' and 'Kreacher' and 'battle' standing out at him.

"You're crying over my old house elf? I thought you were writing to Blaise, you seemed so upset."

Hermione scoffed, wiped her eyes and rolled up the long parchment.

"Firstly, I am not a simpering woman who falls to pieces when a man leaves her; second, Dobby was a warrior, he saved my life. I was nearly killed at the hand of _your _aunt, remember? I would have been were it not for him."

Draco blushed, something Hermione had never seen.

"And third, what I do and who I cry over, is none of your business. If you will excuse me, we have patrol tonight."

Hermione packed her things up with record speed, gliding out of the library and leaving Draco pondering her retreating back. Hermione was an enigma to him. She went against everything his father had taught him.

Lucius Malfoy had tried to teach his son that Muggles and Mudbloods alike were disgusting, unintelligent, vile creatures. Beneath them in every way and only a slight step up from animals. Draco had grown up thinking that they had nothing to offer wizards and that the world would not be such a bad place without them in it.

He had played with only pureblood families growing up and had very little interaction with the muggle world. He knew that at Hogwarts he would be forced to mix with these people and was confused and angry when he could not immediately tell the mudbloods apart from the 'real' wizards and witches. But in a small community like a boarding school people talk and soon it was easy to know who he could befriend and who was to be avoided.

He remembered when he first learnt the bushy-haired know-it-all in Gryffindor was Muggle-born. Pansy had mad a sneering comment about her and Draco had picked up on the Slytherin girl's jealously straight away. Hermione had just answered a tricky question in Potions and in the moments between her answer and Pansy's comment, he had been impressed, even if she was in Gryffindor. And then he had learnt she was Muggle-born – the worst kind of witch – and so began his fascination.

Draco began the wending walk from the library to the Heads' rooms, ignoring the curious onlookers as he followed in Hermione's wake. His carefully guarded secret – his interest in Hermione – had become common knowledge in the space of a few hours. True, no one had landed on the exact circumstances, but they would soon enough. Draco had made too much progress with Hermione to let the idle gossip of bored students ruin his chances with her.

He didn't know how to proceed though and was waiting for some sort of communication from Blaise – to himself or to Hermione – to clear up just what was happening between the newlyweds. A quick inspection of Hermione's room after she had gone done to breakfast had revealed that all of Blaise's stuff was gone, though a framed picture from their wedding remained hanging on the wall. If he had left her a note or letter, she was keeping it on her or well hidden.

Draco sighed deeply, drawing the attention of a group of passing third-year Hufflepuffs. He sneered at them and they hurried away. Crabbe was dead, Goyle was back in London, Pansy had moved in with the Weasley twin she had married and Blaise had run home. He was alone, completely devoid of real friends and in an emotional storm.

Hermione was waiting for him when he finally entered their rooms, dragging his feet. Their patrol didn't start for ten minutes and she looked like she wanted to talk. Draco didn't know whether to be happy or to high tail it back out the door. He stayed, placing his bag silently by the door and standing on the opposite side of the room from Hermione.

He waited for her to begin but she seemed just as at a loss for words as he was. Her eyes were still red from crying over the house elf that had been killed by his Aunt Bella and her neat plat had come undone. Her curls cascaded around her shoulders, exactly how he secretly liked it.

They stood there, staring at each other. The fire that had been lit crackled in the grate between them, adding warmth to the unseasonably cool autumn night. After years of dancing around each other, taking the occasional swipe, they had been pushed to this place in less then a week. Draco had had years to adjust, Hermione had been dropped in and yet the both floundered, equally confused and at a loss.

She had been fighting it for days, the feeling, the little voice in the back of her head that told her there might be something there. Some feeling for Draco Malfoy other then hate. The reason she fought with Blaise, the thing that riled him up even if he didn't know yet what it was. The possibility in Hermione that she might actually like the idea of Draco Malfoy loving her. Years of Draco's confusion crashed down on her in a matter of seconds and she was lost under the weight of it.

Blackness washed over her and Hermione welcomed it.

* * *

_A/N I'm fighting the urge to add a cliche pregnancy in here, but you for you, my readers, I will fight it. Also, this will start and end a Hermione/Blaise fic though I can't promise what will happen in the middle ;) I've added a note on my profile page for people worried about Hermione/Draco cheating. I guess you could call it a spoiler though, so don't read it if you don't want to know. And review before you read it! lol_


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N Sorry for the delay and the shortness of this chapter._

* * *

Hermione blinked open her eyes, finding herself trying to focus on three red-headed people. After a moment Mr and Mrs Weasley and Charlie came into focus. Around them, the hospital ward at Hogwarts formed into solid shapes and she glanced down to find herself clothed in a pale pink nightgown the school issued.

"How are you feeling?" Mrs Weasley asked, stroking her hand.

"Thirsty. How long have I been out?"

"Only an hour or so," Charlie answered cheerfully.

Hermione furrowed her brow, confused. The action hurt and Hermione raised her hand to feel a bandage wrapped tight around her head.

"When you fainted, you hit your head on the coffee table," Mrs Weasley explained. "The Malfoy boy brought you here. We had just had dinner with Ron and Luna."

Hermione glanced around the room, double checking Draco wasn't sitting silently somewhere, watching her, as he was inclined to do of late. But save the Weasleys the room was empty. No Draco, no friends, no Blaise.

"We sent Ron to owl Blaise. Why isn't he here, Hermione?" Mrs Weasley asked kindly. "Did something happen? Did you fight?"

With some silent, invisible signal from Mrs Weasley, the two men drifted off to a different section of the ward, talking quietly about the repairs to the school.

"We fought," Hermione nodded, wincing at the ache in her head. "It's hard, being married."

Mrs Weasley smiled kindly, knowing all to well how hard the first few years of marriage could be even when you loved each other. These arranged marriages were barbaric and she hated to see her children in pain. She glanced over at Charlie who had been living at the Burrow, alone, for the past few months.

"Do you want to talk about it? About what you fought over?"

Hermione contemplated that but her thoughts were interrupted by the very subject of them.

"Blaise will be here soon, he's bringing his personal Healer with him."

Mrs Weasley sniffed at that. "Poppy is a fine Healer, besides its just a bump on the head."

Draco didn't answer, just swept his gaze over Hermione's form, lingering on her bandaged head. Hermione averted her eyes, catching Charlie's gaze instead. He smiled reassuringly and Hermione smiled back. The protectiveness of a Weasley brother was like the comfort of an old worn blanket you've had for years; it just made you feel safe. Charlie sauntered over, perching on the edge of her bed.

"You need the drama, don't you Granger?" Charlie laughed. "You can't just faint, you have to faint and split your head open."

Draco scowled at them and took a seat a couple of beds down from Hermione's. His dark mood only grew as he was the Weasley laugh and joke with Hermione. At one point he grabbed Hermione's hand and Draco resisted the urge to throw a bed pan at the other man. Hermione wasn't even his to be jealous over. Which really made the whole thing worse. He had no right to be here, by her bedside.

His musings were interrupted when the doors opened again to admit Blaise, an older, serious looking wizard following him into the room. The other man carried a leather satchel and Draco guessed this was Blaise's personal healer. He watched as Weasley jumped off the bed, making a hasty retreat as Blaise all but ran to Hermione's bedside.

Blaise took Hermione carefully in his arms, kissing an unbandaged section of her forehead. Hermione leaned into him, for a brief moment, forgetting everything, all the confusion, the pain, the muddled mess of her life and enjoyed the feels of Blaise's sure arms around her.

Her lips searched his, up his throat and across his chin, until they found what they were looking for. She didn't realise how much she had missed Blaise. Where before there was an empty hollowness, the absence of him, now there was a blazing need for him. Her desire roared to life and the others looked around awkwardly at each other, at the empty beds, anywhere but the ardent couple on the bed.

Madam Pomfrey emitted a cry of success and strode back into the room, clearing her throat as she made her way towards Hermione's bed.

"That's enough of that," she chided as the couple finally separated. Blaise didn't go far though, he stood by Hermione's side, clutching her hand. Using his free hand to gesture toward the door, Healer Hodge rushed forward to joint them. The Weasley drifted back to the waiting area and Draco still went unnoticed in his corner of the room, watching the scene unfold.

Hermione sighed and allowed the two healers to poke and prod her with their wands, forcing her to swallow this potion and that. The ache in her head grew and after exchanging a glance with Blaise, he quietly sent the healers away, promising to make sure Hermione would gets lots of rest and relaxation.

"You're not going home already, are you?" Hermione asked when Madam Pomfrey told him, 'just five more minutes.'

Blaise shook his head. "No, that was wrong of me, to leave. I'm just..."

Hermione graced him with a tender smile. "I know how you feel."

Blaise just shook his head, ignoring Pomfrey's watchful gaze and climbed up into bed beside Hermione. He lay down beside her, melding his body against hers, and careful of her bandage, began stroking her hair.

"I'm sorry for being an arse," he whispered, his warm breath tickling Hermione's ear.

She laughed softly. "Sorry for being a cow."

"If you want to be friends with Dra-"

"Shh," Hermione interrupted him. "Not tonight. Let's just pretend we are back home and its just you and me and not a school full of people, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "That sounds good, having you back home, all to myself." He found her lips again and neither noticed as Draco finally slipped out of the room.

* * *

Hermione was released from the hospital ward the next morning, receiving a clean bill of health from both Madam Pomfrey and Blaise's Healer. Blaise whisked her off for a walk around the grounds after breakfast, ignoring her demands to be allowed to go to class.

"I've already missed one day and it's only the first week."

"Yes but in this first week have they taught you anything you didn't already know?"

Hermione grumbled for a moment before answering. "No, I guess not."

They were down the front steps now and heading towards the lake. The day was warm, the sky a great expanse of blue, broken up every now and then by large fluffy white clouds. A few of the older students who didn't have class were lounging by the lake. Ron and Luna waved from under a tree before returning to their previous task: staring into each other's eyes. Hermione shook her head, baffled at how well the two seemed to suite.

"And I presume you've memorised most of the textbooks if all that reading you did was any indication."

Hermione turned her attention back to Blaise. "Not quite memorised. Someone kept pulling me away from my studying, determined to waste the last days of summer."

"Appreciate, I was appreciating them."

Hermione shook her head but leaned in closer to Blaise. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"You know," he began and Hermione detected and odd note in his voice, putting her on her guard, "you don't even really need to be here. You could come home with me."

Hermione stopped, pulled away from her husband to stand in front of him. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek; it was stubbly, he hadn't shaved that morning. Blaise covered her hand with his.

"I need to be in school. My parents are gone, I've been forced into a marriage with a stranger, Draco Malfoy loves me." She laughed, the sound slightly hysterical, sounding strange to her own ears. "I need to be somewhere stable, somewhere familiar. I need to be with my friends and I need to finish school."

Blaise brought her hand around to his lips, pressing them to the inside of her palm.

"I know, I just thought I would ask." He smiled sadly.

"You're still not going to stay," Hermione said. It wasn't a question.

"I need to be away from Draco; he brings out the worst in me."

"And the crazy," Hermione joked.

Blaise laughed but didn't deny it. "I'll visit every weekend."

Hermione nodded, surprised to find herself tearing up. Surprised at how quickly this man had come to mean so much to her. Maybe it was a product of the war. As short lived as it was, she, they all did, quickly learnt to appreciate the people around you, to try to hold on to the relationships that mattered. Petty fighting and bickering were cold bed mates and the people you loved could be gone before you even realised they were in trouble. Her parents' faces flashed before her eyes; Mad-Eye, Dumbledore, Dobby, Remus, they just kept coming.

She turned into her husband and he encircled her in his arms, holding her tight.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N I know this hardly resembles a chapter but I thought I'd post what little I had to let you know I haven't given up on this and that there will be more, hopefully soon. Thank, Jack.

* * *

Hermione threw herself into her school work, Blaise threw himself into finding a job and a house for him and Hermione and Draco threw himself into therapy. He called upon the marriage councillor, Dr Hammond. The attractive young therapist had been surprised to see the single Slytherin in his doorway but had invited him, eager to meet the man Mrs Hermione Zambini had loathed so much to be Head Girl with.

Draco sat in one of the armchairs scattered around the room, first sneering at the long couch in disdain. He didn't really want to be here but he knew something had to give with the Hermione situation. Draco had thought that living side by side with her would emphasise all her annoying habits and he would lose interest. But in the two weeks since Hermione's accident, his respect for her had just grown. She was neat and unobtrusive, she only brought her friends to the Head common room when she knew he wouldn't be there and they were gone well before he was due to return. He had befriended a painting hanging above the fireplace and the young woman in it kept him informed of all the comings and goings. And the fact that he was now befriending paintings was worrying to him.

Draco spent long hours wandering the grounds, trying to wrap his mind around the drastic change in his life. The whole school was aware of his obsession with the Gryffindor and though he still commanded respect with a single withering look, he had lost all friendships and right now Hogwarts was a lonely place to be. Not that he let _that_ show. He didn't want anyone to know just how much loving Hermione had cost him. Especially Hermione.

"I'm sorry," Dr Hammond said, looking confused, when Draco explained what the problem was. "I was under the impression you and Mrs Zabini had a rather large dislike for each other."

Draco cocked and eyebrow and the tharapist elaborated. "We live in a school. People talk."

"Well you must be behind in your gossip, Doc, because that's not what they are saying now."

"And how do you feel about what people are saying about you?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Will you ask my about my childhood next?"

Dr Hammond chuckled and his magicked quill made a note on the parchement lying on his desk. Draco eyed it a moment before turning back to the therapist.

"I need you to tell me how to stop feeling like this."

Dr Hammond sighed. Councilling pureblood wizards and witches were always harder then muggle borns. Purebloods didn't understand the process, they expected a quick fix, a spell or a potion.

"It doesn't work like that, Draco. There are no magic words, no ingrediants to get just right. Any spell or potion I give you would be a temporary fix. You need to talk about, deal with it, face it head on. Hoping these feelings will go away by simply desiring them to is only going to upset you and frustrate you further."

Draco had glared at the young doctor and agreed to come back later in the week, and twice a week after that. He did indeed talk about his childhood, about his father and his death, about his mother wasn't dealing with it, about how Draco felt like the family's responsibilities now rested on his shoulders, but none of it helped with his feelings with Hermione, they continued to grow.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N Sorry sorry sorry, please don't hurl any rotting fruit at me. Here, at last, is another (cough) short chapter.

* * *

Hermione glared at Professor Slughorn as he explained their homework assignments. They would be working in pairs to create a potion from scratch. It would be due the day before the Christmas holidays and had to fulfil certain difficult criteria. The assignment itself wouldn't be too hard; she had often tried her hand at creating something new. But the pairs would be assigned and she knew, she just knew, that she would be partnered with Draco.

They had manage to avoid almost all conversation for more then a month, instead relaying messages through prefects or notes left in the common room. In Potions, where communications was unavoidable, they were polite and kept their conversations strictly on ingredients or instructions. But if they had to collaborate on inventing a potion, they would have to discuss it, meet often to attempt it and finally test it. There was no way they could keep civil and avoid the elephant in the room for nearly a month.

Sometimes Hermione would find herself watching him in the library or the dining hall and just be at a total loss as to how he could have possible comet to love her. It was just ridiculous. But there was no denying the fact that it had been over two months and nothing had changed between them. He had not reverted back to his hateful, nasty ways, nor had he pressed his suit. She had expected it. With Blaise gone, Hermione had waited with baited breath for Draco to make his moves. She had spent many sleepless nights with her eyes on the door, expecting him to burst in and ravish her. But nothing. Just cool politeness, as if nothing had passed between them, as if Blaise had never even been there.

Blaise wasn't visiting as often as either of them would like. His mother kept creating excuses and errands for him that kept him occupied during the weekends. The professors discouraged him from coming during the week and even when he was able to visit, with homework assignments and her head girl duties, a few sleepy hours late at night was all they were able to snatch together. But they wrote often and would spend their first Christmas together alone at one of his family's houses, no family and no friends, just the two of them. Hermione was excited at the prospect at first but as time wore on and the distance between them seemed to grow, she grew a little apprehensive at the thought of just her and her husband alone together for two weeks.

"Well, partner, any ideas?" Hermione glanced up, startled, to find Draco turned in his seat, facing her. While she had been wool-gathering, Slughorn had handed out the partners and she had indeed been assigned to Draco.

Hermione cleared her throat and quickly ran through the ideas she had jotted down when Slughorn had first started speaking. Draco listened, nodding every so often when he liked the sound of something. When she was finished, he shared his thoughts and they soon decided on a language potion that would allowing the drinker to speak a language of his choosing for a certain period of time. It would be tricky but both were confidant that would be able to succeed. Slughorn was delighted when they shared their idea.

"This will mean a lot of late nights for you two!" he had boomed so all the class heard. A Gryffindor a year younger then them sniggered until her friend told her to shut up. Hermione recognised the friend as one she had saved during the battle of Hogwarts, when Hermione had shot a hex at the back of the death eater the other girl had been duelling with. She gave the girl a quick, grateful smile.

The class ended a short while later and Hermione welcomed the end of the school day. Harry and Ron came with her to drop off her bag before they all returned to the Gryffindor common room. They settled around the fire, the rest of the room respectfully keeping their distance.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked Harry. The two rarely separated these days. They glorified in married life.

"She had to see Madam Pomfrey," Harry explained.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "She's not… is she?" Harry jerked oddly in his seat, looking as if he'd just been hit over the head with a mallet at the prospect of becoming a father.

"No!" he answered when he retrieved his ability to talk. "She can't shake that flu she had a couple of weeks ago. With winter coming on, she thought she better do something about it."

Hermione nodded. Ginny did seem to have a tissue permanently under her nose lately but Hermione thought she had heard her throwing up in the girls toilets the other morning.

"Luna is." Harry and Hermione turned to Ron who had been sitting quietly staring at the fire until then. He was deathly pale, his freckles standing out brilliantly against his white skin.

"Pregnant?" Hermione whispered, making sure they were all on the same page. Ron nodded. Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. This was an interesting turn.

"What am I going to do?" Ron asked hoarsely. "I've got no job, no money, we don't even have a house. I've never even held a baby!"

"Shh!" Hermione glared at the nosy third year who had slowed right down as he walked past before turning to reassure her friend. "You've got family, Luna's got her dad, you two will be right until you get on your feet. And you will be a great dad, I know it. You can help Harry baby-sit Teddy to get some practice."

Ron nodded, slightly reassured. "Thanks Hermione."

Later that night Hermione penned a quick letter to Blaise to tell him of her assignment with Draco, finishing with 'P.S guess who is pregnant…'


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N Sorry, it's only short again but it's here. I do have an ending in mind it's just writing it that's the problem. Thanks everyone for your wonderful reviews!_

* * *

Blaise paced back and forth, equal parts terrified and elated. Fear coursed through him even as his heart beat with more fierce intent then it ever had in his whole life. A father. He would be a father. Hermione a mother. A mother to his child. Their child. They were going to have a baby.

He sighed heavily, pausing long enough to toss back a dram of Firewhiskey before continuing his path back and forth across the library floor.

He thought when this day came he would be excited, overjoyed. And he was. Sort of. He was, really, he was. Or he would be. He just had to talk to Hermione. Get her thoughts on the situation. She was only a couple of months into the school year, he was surprised she wasn't going mental. That she hadn't Apparated straight to him to tell him in person. He was sure McGonagall would have let her if his wife had explained why she wanted to see him.

Blaise was suddenly confused. He might not have known Hermione for years but now that he took a moment to think on it, he knew she would not simply add such a flippant comment like that to the end of her letter if it was indeed her that was pregnant. Maybe it wasn't her. Or was it?

"Argh!" Blaise growled to the empty room. He grabbed his wand off the large desk that dominated the room and headed for the fireplace, intending to floo to Hogsmeade. He paused only long enough to send off a patronus message to Mcgonagall, deciding things would go smoother if the Headmistress was forewarned about his unscheduled visit.

* * *

Hermione was arguing passionately with Draco, laughing every now and then, thoroughly enjoying to task of creating the new potion with him. This was only their second day working on the assignment but Hermione already knew it was going to be great. The Slytherin was actually quite brilliant and as they brainstormed, they fed off each other. It was part competitiveness, part collaboration, but whatever it was, it was unexpectedly pleasant.

"No, no, are you crazy? Dragon's blood won't do anywhere near as good a job as rose petals!" Hermione defended her point by waving the rose in question in front of Draco's face.

"How can you possibly compare dragon's blood to rose petals?" he challenged. He, too, was enjoying himself but there was no way he was going to concede the point just because Hermione said it to be true.

"Because they are petals from a rose grown with a virgin's blood from a daily thorn prick.

"How can she be a virgin after getting a daily prick?" Draco asked, his mouth turning up in a familiar smirk.

Hermione scowled but couldn't keep herself from laughing at the outrageous comment.

"Be quiet, you. I'm right, you're just trying to distract me from it."

Draco nodded his head in surrender. Hermione nodded back, glaring playfully before turning to carefully write out the ingredient they had decided on, as well as a lengthy description of its properties.

At times like this he imagined that they were together. It was stupid and tortuous and caused more pain and problems in the long run, but when they were together like this it was fun to do. It was such an easy silence, warm and comfy here in their common room, each bent over their work, quills scratching at parchment. She'd commented earlier, when they began working on their potions assignment that it was a refreshing change to work with someone, not next to them, nagging them to keep going. He'd just smiled.

Draco looked up at the unexpected knock on the door. Hermione did too, her eyes leaving her parchment only at the last moment even as her face turned towards the sound.

"Were you expecting someone?" she asked.

He shook his head in the negative. Abandoning his work, Draco jumped to his feet and crossed the small distance to the door, annoyed that their time together had been interrupted. Hid move didn't improve when he opened the door to find Hermione's husband on the other side.

"Blaise," Draco said simply, his face a blank mask. He stepped aside to let the other man in. As he shut the door, he heard Hermione's squeal of delight and any last vestiges of his fantasy were shattered.

Hermione and Blaise were embracing. It wasn't a passionate embrace, which would have been preferable to the sappy lovesick looks they were giving each other. Draco looked away, his heart clenching. Then, just to torture himself a bit more looked back to watch them disappear up the stairs to Hermione's room. She hadn't even packed up her books, but left them scattered over the table that had been sitting at. Feeling like the biggest fool at Hogwarts, including the first years, he packed up her things, one by one. He carefully dried the ink before rolling up her parchment, stacked the books and capped the inkwell they had been sharing. His own books he simply shoved into his book bag. He climbed the stairs, pausing for a moment outside Hermione's room, listening to the indistinct murmurs coming to him through the door before continuing on to his room.

* * *

"No, not me!" Hermione cried, half amused, half horrified. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me."

"A rare feat." Blaise laughed, clearly relieved. He wasn't going to be a father, Hermione wasn't pregnant. He grabbed her suddenly, drawing her close. He leaned down, his mouth finding hers upturned, waiting for him. She tasted wonderful, amazing. It felt like months since he'd last tasted her, not just weeks.

"I missed you," he heard her confess. He simply nodded, his mouth moving over her cheek, down to her neck. Seeing her homely little setup with Draco had flared his jealousy and now that impending fatherhood wasn't weighing heavily on his shoulders he let his need for her reign free. He pressed his growing arousal into her stomach and growled in approval as he felt her tugging at his clothes. Separating for only as long as necessary, they tore at each other's clothing til they fell naked onto the bed. Their coupling was quick but fierce. He pulled her onto him, watching her pale breasts bounce as she rode him to her climax. He loved it when she did that, not caring what he was doing or how she might look, just seeking her pleasure. She had never been shy or timid between the sheets - or on the grass - but every time they were together she seemed to grow even more passionate. He didn't know how he was going to stand the next three years let alone the rest of their lives together.

Blaise concentrated on Hermione's face, watching for the moment when her eyes closed and her head titled back. He felt her thighs begin to clench and, holding onto her hips, he drove into her, rocketing them both over the edge.

Hermione slumped down, their bodies still connected, her hair spread out over their shoulders.

"I missed you, too."


	24. Chapter 24

_AN Sorry sorry sorry long while between update. And I must confess, I didn't proof this chapter, I'm in a rush, so feel free to not review or to review how much I suck. But I'm very happy with this chapter so I hope you are too. _

* * *

Hermione glanced enviously at Draco's disappearing back. He was escaping to his room to work on their potions assignment while she was stuck down in the common room with her well meaning friends. Ginny and Luna had decided that she needed a 'girls night'. More Ginny than Luna she suspected. Hermione sighed and turned back to the girls who were discussing baby names. Luna was lying down, rubbing her flat stomach.

"Only boys?" Hermione commented after a minute of them discussing only boy names.

"I was the first Weasley girl born in many, many years," Ginny reminded her. "I doubt Luna would be popping out a girl."

"Oh I doubt he'll _pop_ out either way," Luna said. "More like a push and a slither."

"Ew," Hermione and Ginny said together before they all laughed.

"I don't know anything about babies, let alone childbirth," Hermione confessed. "It just all seems so messy."

"I'm surprised at you," Ginny said. "I thought you would be full of knowledge."

Hermione shrugged self consciously. "Its just something that I never felt the need to research. When I thought of children, of having children, it was always some very distant time, reading to them at night, brushing their hair. Not the actual having the babies. That part just sounds painful."

Ginny nodded, her red hair swing around her shoulders. "I'm with you their. Merlin, does Mum have some horror stories. Don't ever bring it up with her. Ever." Hermione laughed.

A soft snore came from the bed they had set up for Luna. Hermione reached over to cover their pregnant friend up.

"Party pooper," Ginny scolded. "She said she would at least stay up til after we could grill you."

"Me?" Hermione squeaked. "What did I do?"

"We never see you any more. You're either with Draco or Blaise is visiting you or we're with Harry and Ron and it doesn't count. You've got girlfriends don't forget. Your life doesn't not revolve around the men."

"I know, I'm sorry, I've been a bad friend. It's just all so confusing! Draco's my friend now, sort of, and we're doing the potions assignment together and head duties and I get sucked in to him, to this little world of our own. I lose track of things."

Ginny gave her a worried look and leaned across her bed to take Hermione's hand. "That sounds really dangerous. He's not a good person Hermione. Yes, we would like to think that your good influence and his father being gone is changing him into an actual human person with human feelings but never forget all the things he's done. Remember how he used to bully you, Hermione. His father was a death eater!""And so was Sirius' brother! Look at the family he came from; Are you saying Sirius was a bad person?"

"It's hardly the same thing, Hermione. He tried to kill Dumbledore, he nearly killed Katie Bell."

Hermione shook her head, refusing to listen. "You don't know him, Ginny. He's not that person anymore. That person was a scared boy, ruled by his father. He's a different man now."

Ginny stared at her in disbelief. She could hardly believe what she was saying herself. Defending Draco Malfoy! Had she lost her mind? But it was all true, he wasn't who he used to be. She wasn't being naïve, she never let herself forget all the hurt he caused her but she was very aware that the day was coming when she would have to decide to put the past in the past. It was something she had planned to think long and hard about over the Christmas holidays the next week. But now Ginny was forcing her to decide right now. Was Draco her friend? As important to her as her other friends.

She took a deep breath. "I've made up my mind about this, Ginny. Draco is my friend, I care about him, I won't hear another bad word about him." The words came without thought, apparently just waiting to be said for weeks and Hermione felt it was right.

Ginny stood, woke Luna and gathered their stuff. She ushered Luna through the door before turning back to address Hermione.

"Do you know what they're saying about you, Hermione? They say with a snake husband at home and a snake lover in your bed, it won't be long until you're slithering through the corridors. I didn't believe them until now. I wonder what Ron and Harry will have to say about this?"

"Sticking up for your friends isn't anything to be ashamed of!" Hermione yelled after Ginny but the redhead just slammed the door behind her.

Hermione dropped onto the couch, letting her head drop into her hands.

"What a mess," she whispered to herself.

"Need help cleaning up?"

Hermione squealed. She spun to find Draco slouched in the doorway to the stairs.

"I heard yelling, which is none of my business, but then I heard my name and what can I say? My vanity got the best of me."

Hermione blushed furiously knowing her fierce defence of Draco had been overheard by the man himself. She ignored his comments, turning back to start folding the blankets and sheets of the unslept in beds. Draco slinked across the room, his signature smirk plastered across his face.

"Yes, yes, I care about you - as a friend - you don't have to look so damn pleased with yourself."

"Oh, I'm not. I'm just glad you finally stood up to the girl Weasel."

They both reached for the same pillow, their hands brushing. Hermione sucked in a breath as Draco took her hand in his, lightly grasping her fingers in his long slender ones.

"Don't," she whispered as he brought her knuckles to his mouth. His lips brushed softly against the back of her hand.

"I can't help myself. I love you, Hermione." His other hand snaked around her waist and her heart began to accelerate. "Feel that?" he asked, pressing her hand to his chest. His heart was beating just as fast as hers.

"Blaise," Hermione said but Draco just shook his head.

"You didn't even know him."

"I didn't know you," Hermione countered. "I feel like a met you, when I met him. Who are you, Draco? Are you the man I defended tonight? Or is this some twisted game, are you trying to beat Blaise."

"Give me tonight, Hermione."

Hermione closed her eyes. She could feel Draco's breath on her face. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the firelight dancing on his blonde hair. Her heart skipped as he pressed his lips against hers, gently at first. When she didn't resist, he pressed against her back, drawing her closer. Their mouths opened and she could taste him on her tongue. Hermione let herself give in for a moment before breaking away. Her eyes were still closed and she was breathing heavy. She could hear Draco only a step away, breathing just as heavy. She opened her eyes and nearly had to close them again, so intense was the passion on his face. She could never deny his feelings for her again, that look couldn't be faked, hidden. She suspected hers mirrored his. She touched her fingers to her lips.

"I love Blaise," she said, curling her fingers beneath her chin. "I obviously have feelings for you, Draco, but I love Blaise. I'm married to him and three years is a long time."

"It's not, it's not so long. I'll wait for you." He looked desperate then and Hermione felt tears spring unbidden to her eyes.

"Don't say that, you shouldn't say that. You make me want to say that." Draco wiped a tear from her cheek and Hermione swiped angrily at the rest. "The ministry will assign you someone and we'll graduate next year and we'll go our different ways and in a few years we'll laugh at the promises we nearly made in school. We're friends, Draco, nothing more."

"Is it them?" He pointed at the door where Ginny and Luna had left. "Are you worried about what your Gryffindors will say? They'll come around. I'll even be friends with Potter and Weasley if that's what it will take."

Hermione laughed, trying to keep herself from completely losing it.

"It's about me, about my principals and my values. Of course I can see we're suited in a weird way, but I'm married to your friend!" She was getting angry now. "That you would just have me throw that away without even trying is why I can't be with you."

"You spend more time with me than with your husband. The ministry should have matched you with me."

They were yelling now. Hermione struggled to keep sight of the bigger picture. All she knew was that right now, in this moment, is was important to remember that she was married to Blaise. "We could lose our wands."

"I'm not asking you to run away with me or even to not be with Blaise though every time I hear to having sex it kills me. All I'm asking is that in three years when you decide whether or not to stay with him, you think of me."

"I can't, Draco."

"You can't even give me that much, Hermione? A half a minute of thought."

She shook her head.

"I have given up my friends, my life, my mother will hardly say more than two words to me."

"I didn't ask you to do that for me," Hermione yelled. "I can't be with you, Draco."

Draco groaned in frustration, pulling at his hair. "I am so stupid. So fucking stupid. I'm torturing myself, for what? For a woman," he poked his finger in Hermione's direction, "who doesn't think I'm good enough for her. And you're right, I'm not."

"It's not like that, it has nothing to do with that. Draco, you are good enough. You are a good person. Didn't you hear what I said to Ginny?" Hermione asked desperately.

"Oh yeah, I heard everything perfectly clearly. And she was right, I tried to kill Dumbledore and I didn't care who got hurt in the process."

"That wasn't you. Voldemort -"

"Chose me. I was proud. I was scared out of my mind, but I was proud Hermione. I wanted to kill him."

"No you didn't."

He had stopped fighting now. He slumped down into the couch and Hermione sat next to him. She took his hand. "You can talk to me, I will not judge you, Draco."

He took a deep breath and Hermione sensed this was something he had wanted to talk about for a while. The bigger picture was gone. Draco was her friend and he needed her. So she listened. She listened to him talk about his death eater father, how scared his mother was and how good it had felt to have the dark lord know who he was. How he had felt important. He talked about the things he witnessed. The things he'd done. He talked about the night on the Astronomy Tower, with his wand pointed a Dumbledore and how he couldn't do it. About how he had spent most of the last part of the war hiding out at Malfoy Manor.

"They never made me Death Eater," he confessed. "I never killed anyone."

"I'm glad," Hermione said.

"Me too," Draco said, burying his head against her shoulder, sobbing quietly.


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione had thought last year's Christmas was hard. It was nothing compared to the mixed bag of feelings that came along this year. Her parents were Merlin knew where, lost, maybe forever, she was married to one Slytherin, best friends with another - Draco Malfoy no less - and she wasn't talking to Harry, Ron or Ginny. More accurately, they weren't talking to her. Ginny had not hesitated to poison them with her thoughts on Hermione's relationship with Draco. Harry, who may have been persuaded to see sense had his hands tied as Ginny's husband and there was no point in trying to talk to Ron. Even if he hadn't been distracted by Luna's pregnancy, he would never be made to see Draco as a friend. For the moment at least, her friends were as lost to her as her parents. The last few weeks of school before the Christmas break were hell and there was only so much Draco could do to cheer her up. He wasn't exactly feeling very festive himself.

Hermione had invited him to stay with them over Christmas but he had declined. Hermione had understood without him having to explain that it would be too painful for him to see her and her husband together at Christmas. They hadn't spoken about that night but their friendship had been strengthened, they had bonded in a way she never had with Harry and Ron. Her and Harry had been through an epic, amazing, fantastical quest together but they never talked about it. Her and Draco talked about everything. From their parents to their hopes for the future, even their fears, nothing was held back with the exception of their romantic feelings for each other.

Most of their discussion on the train back to King's Cross Station had been Draco's mother. She wouldn't answer his owls and on the few occasions he had flooed her, she had only spoken to him for as long as it took to tell him she was busy and couldn't talk now. Only two days before, when Draco had reminded her he would be home for Christmas his mother had merely replied, "Will you?" before announcing someone was at the door and breaking the connection. Draco had kid he would turn up at the house and everything would be boarded up.

When it had been time to leave the train they had embraced warmly.

"Disgusting," a fifth year Gryffindor had muttered to her friends as they squeezed past them.

"Owl me if you need a day away from your mother," Hermione said.

Draco had nodded and gently pushed her in the direction of where Blaise was waiting, watching them intently. "Merry Christmas."

"You too!" Hermione called, her attention already shifted to her husband.

With no one waiting to pick him up, Draco took out his wand and Apparated home.

* * *

"Surprise!"

Blaise stepped back and waited for Hermione to react. She looked confused, turning on the spot to take in the heavily decorated living room. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, the massive Christmas tree was already decorated and there was a sizable pile of presents waiting underneath. Blaise watched as her face fell.

"What? What did I do wrong?"

"Well, it's beautiful, it is, but-"

"It's like our wedding night all over again, isn't it? It's too much." Blaise grimaced, taking out his wand.

"No!" Hermione cried, lunging at the wand. "No, it's perfect, but I just wished you had waited for me, so we could do it together. I mean, that's all part of being a family, isn't it? Decorating the tree together, hanging up the ivy and the mistletoe, putting the star at the top of the tree."

"Sorry, I didn't even think. We've always just had our house elf do it. Do you want me to take it down and we can do it together?" Again he took out his wand but this time Hermione took it from him, placing it on a nearby table piled high with books. "No, I'd much rather sit together and enjoy it."

She pushed him down onto an armchair closest to the fire before settling down on his lap. Blaise breathed in her scent, beyond joyful to have her home, away from Draco. They sat like that together for a minute or two before Blaise could take it no more. He turned her face towards his, pressing his lips to hers, relearning the feel of her in his arms even though it had only been two weeks since he last saw her. It had felt like a lifetime. His seduction was halted by the small cough from the doorway. Their paid house elf - who had really done all the decorating - was waiting to announce a guest.

"Mr Malfoy to see you sir." Blaise sighed and stood, lifting Hermione off him and onto the floor in front of him to hide the evidence of her homecoming.

"Let him in." Moments later there was the man in question.

Draco had eyes only for Hermione.

"She didn't want me there," was all he said. Blaise watched, disbelieving as Hermione crossed the room to Draco, wrapping her arms around him in a brief hug before calling for Tolly, their elf, to make up a room for Draco. Evidently, he would be spending Christmas with them.

Hermione had gone up to bed half an hour before, leaving Draco and Blaise together in the living room in uncomfortable silence. She hoped to forced them into a reconciliation. Draco needed male friends if only to have someone to talk to about Quidditch. She couldn't find any interest in the sport beyond cheering for her friends when they were playing. Draco avidly followed the matches, reading out the Quidditch report every Tuesday from the Daily Prophet until Hermione had screeched at him, "I don't care!" and stormed out of the common room last Tuesday. She had later apologised and explained Ron would do the same thing. It was the only time he read the paper.

"Have you finished your Potions assignment?" Blaise asked after a tense and silent minute. He winced at how the question came out, making him sound like an overbearing father.

Draco cleared his throat. "Yes, but you know how Hermione is. She keeps going over and over it. She's looking for ways to improve it."

"Have you slept with her?" Blaise demanded suddenly. The question could not be kept in any longer. He'd been dying to ask either of them for weeks. Never once had Hermione seemed guilty but there was no denying how much her relationship with Draco had grown. At the end of the day, he had known Hermione for less then a year, he didn't know when she was lying and when she was telling the truth. As far as he knew she had never lied to him. Hermione, as a rule, was a very honest person. But if she did choose to lie to him, he wouldn't know, would he? He knew Draco was such a good liar that he probably wouldn't be able to tell it Draco chose to lie about it, but he was counting on the fact that Draco would either want to brag if it had happened or he wouldn't want to risk damaging his friendship with Hermione by lying to Blaise about being with her just to needle him.

"No," Draco answered, a second too late to be wholly believable.

"You have, you son of a bitch!" Blaise jumped out of his chair while Draco calmly remained seating.

"I won't dispute you about the bitch comment but I assure you, I haven't _slept_ with your wife."

Blaise didn't miss the subtle inflection. They hadn't slept together, but something had happened. He felt sick. He didn't want to talk to Draco about this anymore.

"I'm going to bed," he said, leaving Draco on his own and stomping up the stairs to the room he shared with his wife.

"Did you kiss Draco?" he demanded of Hermione. She was sitting up in bed, reading a book. She closed it and put it on the bedside table. "You did, didn't you?"

"He kissed me."

Blaise felt like his head, his heart, his whole body was going to explode with anger and jealousy.

"I kissed him back." Hermione sat silently, waiting for Blaise's reaction.

"Get out," he said. Hermione froze on the bed, not daring to move. She had never seen him so angry. "I said get out."

"No, let's talk about it. It was the night I fought with Ginny. I was upset."

Blaise was at the side of the bed in an instant. He ripped back the bed cloths and grabbed Hermione's arm. He hauled her bodily from the bed and shoved her out the door. "I said get out of my fucking house."

* * *

_A/N Coming to the end, only a few chapters left. Thank you so much to everyone still reading. _


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N Sorry, sorry, sorry for the wait. Thank you for everyone who reviewed and encouraged (demanded) me to update. The first part of this was written straight away, the rest was longer in coming. It went a direction I didn't intend it. At all. I'm a little cranky at my fingers for ruining my plans but oh well, what are you going to do? **

* * *

This close to Christmas the Leaky cauldron was completely booked out. As was the bed and breakfast on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow and the few other wizard hotels they could think of, scattered around Britain. In the end they had to settle for a Muggle hotel a few streets away from the Leaky Cauldron that Hermione had stayed at with her parents as a child. She had a clear recollection of being seven and asking her mother if a shop they passed was a magic shop.  
"Maybe," her mother had replied, not giving the dirty little pub another glance as they rushed to make their way to the train station.  
Now Hermione sagged in relief as she checked them into the remaining room - a family sized suite.  
"Get yourself into a bad way, love?" The nosy landlady indicated Draco, slumped into an armchair, eyeing his surroundings with disgust. "Even if your parents kicked you out, at least your young man's sticking with you."  
Hermione smiled tightly and took the offered key. Leaving the old woman to speculate, Hermione kicked Draco as she went past him. He jumped up, following her up the stairs to their room.

Hermione was in pieces. This isn't what she wanted. When she had decided to commit herself to her marriage she never thought, for one moment, that this is where she would end up; alone on Christmas save for Draco Malfoy. Her  
heart thudded dully in her chest while behind her she could feel Draco's smugness grow. He had got what he wanted, her alone at Christmas. As soon as they had let themselves into the room and closed the door Hermione turned to him.  
"Did you tell him? Did you do this deliberately, Draco?"  
Draco looked startled. "No, of course not. He asked me, out of the blue." He saw than what a toll this evening had taken on her.

Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her face was tight with stress and her knuckles were white where she gripped the key tightly in her clenched fist. Any pleasure he felt in separating Hermione from her husband evaporated as Hermione dissolved into tears. He took her in his arms and guided her to the edge of the double bed. He rocked her gently as Hermione wept. Draco murmured quietly to her until her tears ran dry and she fell asleep, draped across Draco's lap.  
Sighing into the dark room, Draco stroked her hair and watched the snow begin to fall outside the window. He thought back to his reunion with his mother earlier in the day. She had been spectacularly reminiscent of his father, telling him she didn't want any mudblood lovers in her house. It was almost like having his father back again. His mother must be very lonely tonight, he thought. He hugged the exhausted girl in his arms closer to his body. Almost as lonely as him.

Bhdbhd

Hermione trudged through the snow-covered Diagon Alley, lost in thought. She didn't know if her friends and family would want Christmas presents from her but she would send them all the same. She had everyone's but Ginny's. The beautiful white snow that had greeted her first thing this morning was now dirty and slushy. People bustled all around her, desperately trying to get all their Christmas shopping done.  
She had woken tired and gritty eyed this morning. Draco was sprawled out on one of the single beds, his hair mussed from sleep. When she had asked if he was coming shopping he had merely grunted, rolled over and went back to sleep. Hermione had smiled fondly at her last remaining friend and had left him in peace. She may not be on her own two days out from Christmas if Draco had never confessed his feelings but she knew the man he was now and she couldn't be angry at him. At her husband, her friends and at herself most of all but she could not bring herself to blame Draco at all.  
"Hermione!"  
Hermione looked back over her shoulder to find Charlie Weasley pushing through the crowd to get to her. He wasn't a tall man but he was solid and people were happy to step out of his way. A path opened up between them and Hermione inelegantly grunted as Charlie picked her up in a big bear hug.  
"You are a sight for sore eyes," He said, beaming at her.  
Hermione laughed. "You're not so bad yourself."  
"Come on let's ditch this stuff and Fred and George's and get a drink." He indicated their bags, he had almost as many as he did.  
"I still don't have anything for Ginny," she said.  
"I got her a few things, you can have one of mine. Not that she deserves anything."  
Hermione smiled as she added another friend to her list.  
She waited outside Weasley Wizard Wheezes as Charlie deposited their bags upstairs in the twin's old flat. They had both moved out with their wives so the flat was most filled with excess stock for their shop.  
"Ready?" Charlie asked, emerging from the chaos of people trying to come and go through the doors.  
She nodded and Charlie led her back through the over crowded streets all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron where they lucked into two empty stools at the bar. They waved to the people they knew in full to bursting pub before giving their order to a flustered looking Tom.  
Hermione smiled at Charlie and he smiled back while they waited in silence. Tom slammed their drinks down, not waiting to take the money Charlie offered before rushing to the other end of the bar where two tipsy looking witches past their prime were urgently gesturing for him to attend them.  
"How are you?" Charlie asked, still smiling pleasantly.  
"Fucking awful," Hermione answered, blushing at the obscenity even as she said it, but still smiling. "You?"  
"About the fucking same." Charlie chuckled harshly before downing his drink in one. "Let's drink to that."  
Hermione clinked her full glass against Charlie's empty one and downed her drink as best she could, coughing delicately as the drink burned her throat.  
"Another!" Charlie called to Tom.  
"And leave the bottle!" Hermione added, slapping a galleon down on the table.  
"I don't want any trouble out of you two," Tom said as he placed a bottle of Firewhiskey down on the bar between them. "You just sit here quietly and drink your drinks. I've got a pub full of families and I don't need any tomfoolery this close to Christmas."  
Hermione nodded, her most innocent look plastered on her face while Charlie saluted the aging barman. As Tom turned away, though, Charlie shot Hermione a wink before filling up her glass then his.  
"To our husband and wife."  
"To our husband and wife," Hermione repeated. They clinked their over full glasses, slopping a little on the bar before again downing them in one go.

bhdbhd

Hermione looked up at the figure standing over her through bleary eyes. Her wand was stowed deep in her pocket, not that it mattered. The only spell she could currently remember was the one to tie her shoes and she didn't think that would be much help.  
"You run off with another man and then I find you drunk with yet another." Her husband shook his head at her.  
"I'ms not with another man. I'ms with Charlie," Hermione smiled stupidly up at Blaise. Beside her Charlie snored softly.  
"Where's Draco?" Blaise demanded, not at all amused by the newest mess his wife had gotten herself into. She just shrugged. But they needn't have worried. The man in question burst through the door, his usual slick down hair resembled a blond version of Harry's mop of hair.  
"There you are!" he cried, spotting Hermione slumped at the bar. It was just before dinner and the pub was mostly empty of people to view their drama. "You said you were going shopping for a few Christmas things and you never came back! I've been searching for you since lunch..." Draco trailed off as he realised who the man with his back to him was. "What are you doing here, Zabini?"  
"Last I checked, Hermione was my wife."  
"Last I checked, you kicked her out of your house."  
The two witched from earlier in the day sat silently at the end of the bar, watching the back and forth play between the two handsome young men. Little did the men know that those two actually formed 'Roberta Brooks'. Bobby as 'she' was known to her readers had a way of sniffing out the most delicious gossip for Witch Weekly. They had already submitted their column for the Christmas edition but with a bit of luck, they'd be able to squeeze this salacious encounter in before the magazine when to print at 9pm that night. Moving quickly yet subtly, the older of the two slipped out a quick quotes quill and a piece of parchment from her bag. She jotted down what she had seen and heard before letting the quill take over.  
"I'm still responsible for her," Blaise countered. He lifted Hermione's slack hand up off the bar top. "This ring means she's mine for the next two and a half years."  
"Yours," Draco scoffed. "You threw her away like a piece of garbage. You broke her heart! She cried herself to sleep last night!" Draco got louder and louder until he was yelling at the man.  
"Because you fucking kissed her!" Blaise shouted back, shoving Draco away from the woman in question, back towards the exit. "Just leave, you've done enough damage to our family."  
"Family?! And what a family. You leave the second it got tough, you didn't even stay and fight for her." He pointed to Hermione who was struggling to sit up straight as she watched the men argue, her eyes swivelling from one to the other and back again. "Do you honestly think you have any chance of keeping her if this is how you are going to continue to act? You think because you put a ring on her finger that she's yours. She's not, you have to earn her love." Blaise flinched and Draco knew he'd found a sore point. Hermione had told him after he kissed her that she loved her husband but she had obviously never told the man herself. He took a moment to debate with himself. Would he be selfless or selfish. Confess Hermione's feelings for her or let Blaise continue to wonder if his wife loved him. It was a test, the universe was testing him, to see if he really was a changed man. If he wasn't, he didn't deserve her.  
"You are such an idiot, Blaise. You didn't even have to stay and fight, you just had to stay. She loves you. Maybe I would have had a chance if we were matched but it doesn't matter because she was matched with you. And by some grace of God, you've managed to get her to love you, despite what an absolute wanker you are. But guess what? People fall out of love too. So don't fuck it up." With one last look at Hermione, tears in her eyes and his, he turned and strode out of the Leaky Cauldron and out of the life of the woman he loved.

* * *

**A/N2 I'm very tired and while I did read over this, please feel free to point out any mistakes I made. Thanks for reading! **


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N Another chapter? What? I know, don't die of shock everyone. Please review your thanks!**

* * *

"Hermione?" Molly said from the fireplace where she had watched the whole ordeal in silence.  
All eyes turned to her. Ignoring them, she bustled forward, putting a comforting arm around the girl and glaring at her snoring son. "Why don't you come and stay with us at the Burrow for Christmas?" She had tried to ignore Blaise but he reached to grab Hermione's arm but she flinched away from him. "I think you've done enough," the Weasley matriarch snapped.  
"She's my wife," he began but Molly talked over him.  
"And she's my daughter! She might not have come from me but I love her just the same. And I will protect my family." She stared him down, waiting for him to step back before she collected Hermione and Charlie's things. She shook awake her second eldest and with a little magical prodding managed to get the three of them home through the Floo network.  
Before she left she turned to Tom. "Thank you for letting me know." The wearing Tom just nodded. With one last glare for Blaise, she was gone.  
Blaise was tempted to follow but he knew he wouldn't be welcomed in the sure to be overflowing with Weaselys home. Instead he collected what dignity remained to him and ignore the two witches at the end of the bar who were furiously talking and writing simultaneously Flooed home to his big empty house.

bhdbhd

At the Burrow, Hermione was bustled up the bathroom, too numb and drunk to do more than follow Molly's brusque instructions. She didn't see the shocked look on everyone's faces as first a very drunk Charlie and then Hermione followed by Molly paraded out of the fireplace. A stern look and a sharp shake of Molly's head kept everyone silent thought that could have also been the shock.  
"What a mess you've gotten yourself into," she chided as she tugged the young woman's jumper over her head.  
"Yes ma'am," Hermione answered, fighting the urge to vomit. She didn't protest as Molly tugged down her pants, leaving her standing in her underwear in the magically heated room. She heard the taps on and felt Molly guide her to the shower.  
"Step in," Molly said quietly, holding the girl steady a moment before pulling across the shower screen. "Now hand me your underwear."  
Hermione stepped out of the now sodden knickers and unhooked her bra, passing them over the top of the screen.  
"Now you just have a nice hot shower and come down when you're ready. I'll make sure they all know that no one's to bother you."  
"Thank you, Molly," Hermione murmured, now slumped on the floor of the shower.  
"It's all right, dear," she said, biting her tongue and holding back a lecture on the stupidity of getting drunk.  
"What is going on?!" The question came from more than one person and she ignore them all as she made her way through to the laundry, depositing Hermione's alcohol reeking clothes in the tub to soak. She turned to her children both natural and in-law and frowned at them, Ginny especially.  
"You do not get to abandon her and then demand gossip."  
Molly pushed through them and made her way back to the kitchen. She had been in the middle of preparing dinner when she had received the owl from Tom telling her Charlie and Hermione had all but passed out at the bar after an afternoon of heavy drinking. She was pleased to see her family had managed to finish dinner without her having to tell them to. Must have slightly more sense than she realised.  
She had not been happy when they had arrived home from Hogwarts, Ginny fuming about Hermione 'abandoning' them for a pair of Slytherins. She had given the girl and her son-in-law a stern talking to. Ron was only spared until the next day when he and Luna arrived after spending the night at Luna's with her father. Luna was given a reprieve given her condition. Not that she thought anything would stress the blond free spirit out. Molly couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. She was going to be a grandmother.  
But her joy was short lived as she heard the pipes clunk as the shower was turned off.  
"Not a word," she commanded the assembled family setting the table and dishing dinner out. "Pansy," she said, addressing George's wife. "Do you have some spare clothes you can lend Hermione?"  
"Uh, yeah," the shocked girl answered unsurely. She knew of all the recently acquired in-laws she was the least favourite of Molly. Eager to please George's mother and put her in a more accepting mood for their news, she rushed off to find some clothes to lend the prodigal daughter.

bhdbhd

Hermione sat on the edge of the bathtub wrapped in a big, if slightly worn, towel. Molly hadn't returned to give her clothes and Hermione couldn't face Ginny to ask to borrow some of hers so she sat and tried to identify what exactly she was feeling. Sick, for starters. Damn Charlie Weasley. But the numbness was gone and now other feelings flooded in, loss the most prominent. He was gone. Draco was gone, she just knew it. Where she could only guess. Some distant corner of the country? Overseas? Back to Hogwarts? She just knew she wouldn't see him again for a while and that made her sad. And relieved, she had to admit. The boiling hot anger at her husband was still there, just pushed to the back by other, more pressing worries. Ginny was downstairs. Ron and Harry. They didn't even want her here. She didn't know if she wanted to be here.  
She just wanted to go home, home to her parent's house and to her childhood bed. She wanted to wrap herself in her favourite old robe and forget about the Marriage Law. About the war and Draco Malfoy being in love with her. She wished she could be a little girl again, with buck teeth and bushy hair and parents who loved her, who she could put her arms around and just be loved. The purest form of love between mother and father and child.  
"Stop feeling so sorry for yourself, Granger," Pansy said from the doorway. She hadn't even heard the door open. "It's Christmas time, forget all that bullshit and just come and enjoy yourself. What happened there?" She pointed to the bruised marring Hermione's arm where Blaise had physically dragged her out of bed.  
Hermione ignored her question, starring at the young woman. It wasn't that she looked profoundly different. Her pug nose still turned up to see the Gryffindor snivelling on the edge of the bathtub, and there was still a harsh set to her mouth but there was something. A softness in her eyes.  
"You're pregnant," Hermione said.  
Pansy couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. It almost made her look friendly.  
"We haven't told anyone so just keep your mouth shut." No, not that much changed.  
"How do you make it work?" she wondered. "You and George... you're so different."  
Pansy shrugged, coming into the room and depositing the pile of clothes in Hermione's lap. "We just do. I mean, the Ministry might be full of idiots but at least they were thorough with matching people. I only know of a few hard-core cases where they got it completely wrong." She eyed the near naked girl meaningfully.  
"You think we don't belong together?" Hermione demanded.  
"No, I don't go for women."  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."  
"I don't know," Pansy shook her head, dropping down next to Hermione on the edge of the tub. "I think," she began slowly, "that everyone fights to begin with. Some fight to hold on to something, some fight to gain it." She thought of her brother-in-law, Charlie. "Some fight to get rid of it. But we are all fighting for something. And we aren't really happy until we stop fighting or at least are winning. And you seem to be fighting a few battles at once. So I think you need to decide on one thing. One thing you really and truly want and are willing to fight for. Blaise or Draco? New friends or old? Your old life? No one's going to make you happy, Hermione. Not until you let go of everything in here." She tapped her chest, over her heart. "I'm not saying it will all just fall into place, but it will definitely get easier."  
"I just want my life back. I'm so tired of fighting."  
"Too bad," Pansy said bluntly, standing up to leave Hermione to get dressed. "The war has yet to be won," she said dramatically, enjoying giving advice to her former enemy.  
"Pansy?" Hermione said, stopping her at the door. "Who did you fight?"  
"None of your fucking business, Granger."  
And she slammed the door.

bhdbhd

What do I want? Hermione thought to herself. She was snuggled up on the couch, the rest of the house having gone to bed. Dinner had been just as she remember, too many voices, everyone talking over one another. She had been ignored, for the most part, much to her relief. She had excused herself straight after dinner, having only managed a few mouthful on her rolling stomach. Charlie hadn't put in an appearance at all. She had hidden out in his room, sitting on the end of his bed as he snored loudly. It wasn't unil she was sure that everyone had gone home or to their beds that she had snuck back down stairs. Molly had made up the couch for her and the fire was still roaring. She thought back over the last few years of her her parents away, fighting in the war, being tortured, the euphoria of victory, the pain of loss. The betrayal of the Ministry. Her wedding night, loving Blaise. She did love him, she did not doubt that. But for all his talk, she didn't know if he really wanted her. He seemed to have let her go so easily. Reacted so harshly. Not listened, not given her the benefit of the doubt. Her arm was even bruised where he had physically grabbed her and dragged her out of their bed. She wondered now how she did love him and doubted greatly that he loved her. He certainly had never said it. Would it have made a difference if he had?  
"What are you doing?"  
She stared but it was only Harry. He was in his pajamas, his hair standing up and a concerned look on his face.  
"When does it go from selfishness to self-preservation, Harry?"  
"Has he hurt you?" he demanded, coming to sit beside her. He put an arm over her shoulders and she snuggled into him.  
"No," she lied.  
"Liar," Harry said.  
She held out her arm. They were faint, the bruises, but in the clear shape of a man's hand wrapped around her slender arm.  
"No, Hermione, no. There's nothing to discuss. He physically hurt you. You cannot go back to him.  
"It wasn't like that, Harry. He was just trying to get me out of a room." It sounded weak even to her own ears. She had been in shock when he did it. More upset that he wasn't listening to her than that he might be hurting her. But twenty-four hours later and the bruises clear on her arm, she was horrified that he'd done that to her. That she had let him. That she'd turned into the kind of woman who was more sad at being dumped than that he'd hurt her.  
"Who am I Harry? I thought Ginny was wrong, but she's not, is she? Its me. I've turned into a horrible person." She stared into her best friend's impossibly green eyes.  
"You're not horrible, just a little lost. And Draco's not so bad, I guess," he admitted grudgingly. "You could do worse."  
Hermione thought of Draco's exit earlier that evening and couldn't help the sadness washing over her. "It doesn't matter, he's gone. And I'm married to Blaise for the next thirty months."  
"You won't be after I show these to Kingsley, come on."  
Not giving either of them a chance to dress, Harry helped her to her feet and led her to the fireplace. He took the bag of Floo powder off the mantle.  
"I love him, Harry. It was one night when he was upset." She couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't bring herself to stop it.  
"It still needs to be reported," Harry said firmly and with that he tossed the powder in the fireplace. "Ministry of Magic!"

* * *

**A/N2 So this went somewhere I had never intended, I promise. I think I once said that Blaise and Hermione would end up together but now I'm not so sure. This story has a mind of its own. If you have any ideas/suggestions/guesses at where you think the story should/will go, please let me know. I need all the help I can get!**


	28. Chapter 28

Hermione and Harry returned to The Burrow at dawn. It was Christmas Eve and everyone was still asleep. Hermione had hoped when they reached the Ministry that Kingsley would be gone for the night but they had found him bent over his desk, paperwork covering every available surface. Harry had been spitting mad but had managed to explain the situation calmly and concisely. Hermione had refused to speak.  
"Do you want to press charges, Hermione?" Kinglsey had asked her.  
She shook her head 'no' and Harry snapped, turning on the Minister.  
"This is your fault! She wouldn't have even been with him if it wasn't for you. You've ruined her life." He was out of his seat, leaning over Kingsley desk and pointing his finger in the older man's face.  
"Sit down, Harry," Hermione said tiredly. "My life is not ruined."  
Harry sat and Kinglsey studied the woman in front of him for a long moment. She was obviously tired, deep circles under her eyes. She was slightly thinner, not so much that you would immediately recognise it. But more than anything, she just looked defeated. She was done. She had tried and failed. Another thirty months of marriage would not change her mind.  
"I can offer you an early release divorce based on severe incompatibility. The assault will be marked in your personal files but will not be on Mr Zabini's official record. It will not affect him in future employment opportunities. Neither of you will be rematched."  
"It should be on his record! What if he does this to the next witch? Or something even worse? That will be on you."  
"No, Harry, it will be on me," Hermione said from beside him. "If I wasn't completely certain that what Blaise did was an accident, that he would never do something like that to purposely hurt someone, I would never agree to this. I would press charges. But if you had taken two minutes to get to know him, you would realise what a big misunderstanding this all is." She turned to Kingsley. "What do I have to do?"  
Kingsley rummaged in his drawers for a moment before locating the correct forms.  
"As you have been married less than a year, all income and assets acquired in that time will be split fifty-fifty. Neither of you is entitled to a piece of the others previous income or assets."  
"Oh good," Hermione said sarcastically. "I'd hate to have to give up the money I made tutoring."  
Kingsley ignored her interruption and indicated where she should sign.  
"A Ministry official will deliver these to Blaise to sign in the morning and unless he decides to contest the divorce, you will be an unmarried woman again by lunch."  
Things certainly moved faster in the wizarding world than the Muggle, Hermione thought to herself as she signed her name.  
Now, back at the Burrow, Hermione shuffled around the kitchen, starting breakfast for Mrs Weasley and putting on the kettle to make a strong cup of tea. Harry watched her silently from the table. Not using magic, Hermione measured out milk and oats, added a pinch of salt and cinnamon. She placed the large pot over a burner on the stove and stirred it slowly, waiting for it to come to a simmer.  
"Why don't I do that and you go and get some rest," Harry offered. Hermione sipped her tea that had made itself while she prepared breakfast before answering.  
"I'm waiting to see how much my husband loves me, Harry. Whether or not he's going to fight for me or just sign the papers. Do you really think I could sleep?

* * *

"Wake up, you foolish boy!" Elizabeth Zabini hollered at her grandson, standing over his bed.  
Blaise shot up in bed and stared blearily at his grandmother. "What?"  
His head was pounding and his stomach rolled. He was rethinking that bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky now.  
"There is a Ministry official here. He's waiting in the study for you to come and sign divorce papers. What have you done?"  
"Divorce papers?" Blaise asked. "Are you sure?"  
"Yes, I'm sure. Now hurry up and get dressed. And here," she said, throwing him a bottle of amber liquid, "drink this." She left him them, stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind her. Blaise didn't even know she was in the large manor house when he had stumbled home after midnight last night. And how had Hermione even been able to get a divorce? They still had two and a half years of their marriage contract left.  
When he arrived down in the kitchen ten minutes later, his head and stomach settled now thanks to Lizzy's potion, it was to find a very stern looking Ministry official waiting for him.  
"Blaise Zabini?"  
Blaise nodded.  
"I'm Derrick Dinkle from the Department of Marriages, Births and Deaths. I'm here to obtain your signature on divorce documents drafted by Kingsley Shaklebolt, Minister of Magic and already signed by Hermione Granger Zabini to be known as Hermione Granger when they divorce is finalised upon my witnessing signature."  
Well, she went straight to the top, Blaise thought to himself as Dinkle continued to explain the terms of the divorce. Basically, he and Hermione would walk away from each other with nothing to show from their last six months of marriage. Strangers once more.  
"My grandmother's ring," he said suddenly. "She has my grandmother's ring."  
Dinkle made note on the divorce parchment.  
"Furthermore, the assault occasioned by you on Ms Granger's person shall be marked in your file but not recorded on your official record." Dinkle looked at him with through narrowed eyes. In his opinion a man who hit a woman was no man at all. "Neither of you will be rematched."  
Blaise looked at Dinkle blankly. "What assualt?"  
"Do you deny that on the 22nd of December you wrapped your hand around Ms Granger's arm and forcibly removed her from your marital bed?"  
Blaise thought a moment. "No, I don't deny it but I didn't assault her."  
From the inside pocket of his navy blue robes Dinkle pulled out a photo of Hermione and handed it to Blaise. In it Hermione looked exhausted. Her face kept turning away from the camera before glancing tiredly back. Across her arm was a bruise, made by his hand. He hadn't even realised he had her so tightly. He remembered the red-hot anger, the boiling desire to punch Draco in the face. He hadn't wanted to hurt Hermione, he just wanted her gone.  
"I did that," he said quietly, forgetting Dinkle was in the room. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the photograph. "It was an accident." He felt sick again, though this time it had nothing to do with his hangover. He loved Hermione, he would never hurt her.  
Silently he handed the photo back and took the parchment the other man offered. He sat at his large desk, dipped his quill in the ink and signed his name.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there when his grandmother found him.  
"What happened?" she demanded, easing herself into a chair in front of the desk.  
"I got to possessive, jealous, angry." Blaise couldn't meet his grandmother's eyes, instead looking over her shoulder to a bookcase on the far wall. It of course reminded him of Hermione. "I hurt her. Physically."  
He saw Lizzy flinch though she did not say anything. Blaise told her what happened. When she still didn't say anything he went back further, explaining what had led up to the confrontation, right back to the beginning.  
"My goodness, Blaise," Lizzy said, shaking her head when he was done with his tale. "Did you ever love the girl? You seem to run away from her every chance you get." She stood and turned towards the door. She stopped and turned back saying that thing that everyone hates to hear. "You have really disappointed me." And then the final blow. "I guess you're more like your mother than I realised."  
She left then. Blaise seethed, mentally calling his grandmother all sorts of foul things. How dare she accuse him of being like his mother? His mother chewed up men and spat them back out. He loved Hermione. Had wanted to make a real go of their marriage. He had fought for her, hadn't he? That ungrateful bitch. He had endured all sorts of gossip and rumours about her and Draco and she repays him by accusing him of assault and divorcing him?! Well good, good riddance, thought Blaise.  
He was better off without her.

* * *

**A/N Sorry its a bit short. I have hundreds of people who get alerts for this fic and I'm only 63 reviews away from 1000 reviews. I think you can see where I'm going with this. Please Review and give me my first 1000th review!**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N A couple of you commented on the crappy formatting of the last chapter, hope its better this time around. Thank you to all of you who are reviewing. I'm sorry to those I promised a chapter earlier in the week, I had errands on Monday and when I sat down on Tuesday to finish off what I had started I was very unhappy. **

* * *

Life returned to normal for Hermione. It was like she had never been married. She worried and fretted over Draco's absence and tried her best to put Blaise out of her mind. She studied hard, took on the duties of the Head Boy and marvelled with her friends at Luna's growing pregnancy.

In her weakest moments, in the middle of the night when sleep eluded her, she wished it was her stomach gently swelling with Blaise's child. She wished he had been right when he had assumed it was her that was pregnant.

Little did she know, she was about to become the poster child for the Anti-Marriage Law campaign.

The article appeared on the eve of Valentine's Day. 'Bobby Brooks' had certainly done her research. When Callindra Collins and Mary Hatt had approached their editor with their article about the love triangle they'd observed that night at the Leaky Cauldron he'd been very pleased with them. So pleased he had withheld the article from being immediately published and ordered them to write an exposé on the Marriage Law, uncovering all the unhappy marriages the Ministry had been trying desperately to cover up. It was no secret that the editor's daughter had been matched quite unhappily to a man she had long fought with. Katie Bell was their first stop.

Her husband, Charlie Weasley, was their second.

Discreetly, sometimes working as a pair, sometimes individually, they interviewed fifty-eight couples, fifty-two of which were extremely unhappy with their marriages. With the promise of anonymity they had even managed to score an interview with a Ministry employed councilor who thought what his employer was doing was barbaric. In the end, so lengthy was their article, so full of facts, interviews and opinions that their editor decided to run it as a special edition booklet to be sold at half price.

So as not to arouse the suspicions of just how damning their research was Mary Hatt waited until the the last minute before they went to print to get a comment from the Minister for Magic. Her owl read as follows:  
_Dear Minister, _  
_I am writing to request a comment on the divorce of Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini on Christmas Eve, the paperwork for which was filled out by your personally. In addition, a comment on the general unhappiness and unease many feel in their new marriages is also requested. If people cannot stand to be in the same room as their spouse, that's not exactly conducive to procreating a new generation of magic. A speedy reply would be appreciated. _  
_Roberta Brooks, Witch Weekly._

A simple, 'No comment,' was the reply.

By the day after Valentine's Day, nearly every magical person in Britain had read the article. The Ministry was in panic mode, trying desperately to refute the article. They even went so far as to draft their own pamphlet full of success stories. Kingsley was holed up in his office, refusing to speak to anyone.

Hermione, back at Hogwarts was in a similar situation.

The front cover of the anti-Marriage Law booklet had featured a wedding photo of her and Blaise, artfully torn in half and a photo of Draco pasted in between them. An exaggerated retelling of her short marriage had accompanied the photos. Her and Draco were painted as some sort of star-crossed lovers, kept apart by the Marriage Law until she had 'called in a favour' to the Minister, expediting her divorce and allowing her and Draco to be together. The fact that Draco had seemingly dropped of the planet had not featured in the article. Neither, thank goodness, she thought, had the real reason behind her and Blaise's late night divorce.

A parliament of owls delivered staggering amount of mail to her on Valentine's Day. Some were filled with congratulations for finding a way around the Law, some were filled with pleas, begging her to help them get early divorces, a few Howlers chastised her for making a mockery of the sanctity of marriage but mostly they were filled with thanks. People looked at her and saw hope. It seemed that while yes, there were a few success stories, the majority of the people matched by the Ministry were deeply unhappy.

A lot of people had been in relationships but had not been granted exemption as they had just missed out on qualifying. Some people whose original matches had been granted exemption had simply been rematched with whoever was left over. The Ministry's carefully thought out law was coming apart at the seams.  
A week after the damning article was published the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, proclaimed the Law would be abolished. All divorce petitions would be granted and the Ministry apologises for any stress and emotional damage that may have been caused by the Law.

And, just like that, it was all over. Some couples stayed together. The ones who were pregnant mostly stayed with their partners though not all. The ones, like Harry and Ginny, who were lucky enough to be matched with people they were already with - the True Matches as they would come to be called - stayed together but mostly the Ministry was flooded with divorce petitions. First in line was Katie and Charlie.

* * *

Draco was cold. Even though they were moving into the end of winter every bone in Draco's body felt frozen. The heavy furs did nothing to help. They were forbidden from lighting fires as some perverted attempt to toughen up the students but all it did was heighten the cases of cold. One boy, a First Level, had had to be treated for frostbite on his toes.

Durmstrang was not all it was cracked up to be. But it was a school and it was far far away from Hermione and Blaise. Draco had thrown himself into his school work, into learning the language though after six weeks he felt more lost than ever. He had spent a large chunk of his trust fund to bribe his way into the school and now that he was here, he was determined to make the most of it. He kept his head down and his opinions to himself. He was miserable, but not half so miserable he would have been had he stayed at Hogwarts.

Here, no one knew who he was, no one cared that he loved a girl who didn't love him back. They appreciated his flying ability, his knowledge of the dark arts and his import of Firewhiskey.

That all changed however when he came down to breakfast a couple of days after Valentine's Day to find a copy of a special edition of Witch Weekly had been left on the table in front of his usual seat. 'Lover Boy' had been written across the photos of him, Blaise and Hermione. The B in Boy was backwards. But he was not ridiculed and bullied, as he feared he would be. It took him half the day to realise the other boys admired him. Hermione Granger had, of course, dated Viktor Krum.  
That night, slightly drunk on Firewhisky, he had owled Hermione.

_Dear Hermione, _  
_I wish I could say I was sorry about your divorce, but I'm not. I am sorry if you are hurting. I've enrolled at the Durmstrang Institute, in case you were wondering what had become of me. Its cold here but the other students are friendly enough and I'm slowly fitting in. I'm learning a lot, you would be jealous. _  
_I miss you._  
_Yours, if you'll have me,_  
_Draco_

* * *

Hermione started at the little short note. Durmstrang. She smiled, she was jealous. I miss you. She missed him, too. But it was nothing compared to how her heart missed Blaise. Gone were the letters, the brief visits, the nights with him in her bed. Gone was the hope he would be there again. He clearly didn't want her anymore.  
She wrote back to Draco, trying very hard to sound casual and friendly. She told him of the abolishment of the Marriage Law, their unwitting part in it. She told him of who was getting divorced and who was staying together. She tried to include people he was friends with, adding in the detail of Pansy's pregnancy. At the end, as if she had only just thought of it, she added;

_Have not heard from Blaise, though I really did not expect to. If I do, I'll let him know where you've ended up. _  
_Hermione. _  
_P.S. Head duties have doubled, miss you, too._

Before she changed her mind, Hermione all but sprinted to the Owlery and sent off her letter. One of her worries settled - the location of Draco - she returned to her room and continued studying.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to everyone who is reviewing, helping me get to 1000, I can't thank you enough! Hugs and kisses for all of you. And pie!**

**Now, on to something serious. The more I write, the more confused I get about who I want Hermione to end up with. If I were to write alternative endings, would that be a total cop out or would it just be an easy was to appease everyone? There would be the final chapter, the way I really want it to end, then there would be one or two 'bonus' chapters where Hermione ends up with someone else. Sound off in the reviews!**


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